


The Tree of Bound Souls

by cameronclaire



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, Fade to black sex, Flirting, Gift Fic, Gift Giving, Hollow Bastion | Radiant Garden, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Minor canon divergence, Miscommunication, Mistletoe, Traditions, Twilight Town (Kingdom Hearts), Winter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:54:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28580832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cameronclaire/pseuds/cameronclaire
Summary: Lea and Roxas have made themselves a new home in Twilight Town, but when Christmas comes around, Lea can’t help but reminisce about his childhood. In Radiant Garden, Christmas is a holiday centered around giving your heart away. Roxas has had Lea’s for a long time now, but Lea would like nothing more than to make it official. When Isa asks Lea to come home for Christmas, Lea finds himself contemplating a holiday proposal. Problem is, Roxas has Christmas plans of his own, and Lea’s not sure Roxas wants to marry a reformed villain, anyway...
Relationships: Axel/Roxas (Kingdom Hearts), Isa & Lea (Kingdom Hearts), Isa/Terra (Kingdom Hearts), Lea/Roxas (Kingdom Hearts), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Past Isa/Lea (Kingdom Hearts) - Relationship
Comments: 39
Kudos: 22





	1. Into the Unknown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shaky_mayhemm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaky_mayhemm/gifts).



> A gift fic for the brilliant and sweet Shaky Mayhem 💕 I'm sorry it's so belated! I hope that you like it!!
> 
> Prompt: Axel contemplating if this Christmas is a good time to propose to Roxas
> 
> Hoping to post a chapter every day or so until I get the whole thing up!

Snow is falling in light, elegant, cotton candy puffs against a dove gray sky as Lea dangles Roxas upside down from the roof of the Old Mansion in Twilight Town. 

“We should do this more often,” Lea calls down to him, a little breathless. 

Roxas laughs, thin and airy. “Fuck you, babe.” 

Lea snickers back, words low and strained, “Rain check.”

Lea has Roxas’ calves wrapped snugly around his neck, and his hands grasp Roxas’ thighs in a not unfamiliar vice grip, while Roxas curses, colorful and chipper, and arranges the thick garland of strong-smelling evergreen above the mansion’s left-hand, round, arched window. Lying on the rooftop, his torso hovering over the edge, Lea offers the occasional direction and tease, as Roxas secures the thing with metal hooks, heavy twine, thick knots, and quite a bit of optimism. 

Roxas, who has done things a great deal stranger in his time working for the Organization might strike a passerby as surprisingly unperturbed for someone hanging upside down two stories up, but Lea’s grip is secure, his hands occasionally warming to send a spike of heat through his boyfriend. Roxas works deftly and has hung about three fourths of the evergreen before he pauses for a breather.

Lea notices his pause, watching the clouds of heat puff from pale, slightly chapped lips. “You need to come up for air there, Roxas?”

Roxas shakes his head, blond hair fluttering like feathers. “Almost done, just lower us a bit more to the right.”

“Aye, aye. Oh shit.” Lea gasps a cloud of steam through his mouth and nose befitting a dragon, confirming why his internal temperature breaks most thermometers. Guitar strumming sounds from somewhere within Lea’s slim black parka, and his entire body jolts, his grip easing for a second and then tightening again as the singer starts vocalizing, loud, slightly grating: 

_Na, na, na, na, na, na_

“Don’t you dare,” Roxas orders sharply as the grip around him shifts, his whole body swinging sideways.

_Na, na, na, na, na_

_I’m here to collect your hearts_

_It’s the only reason that I sing_

The loud, melodic dance music continues, and Roxas gives an undignified squawk as Lea rises to his knees and bodily hauls him back to the rooftop. Roxas lands in a crouch with a catlike grace, but it doesn’t stop him from narrowing his eyes at Lea, even as he reaches to help him pat down his long parka in search of his Gummiphone. 

_I don’t believe a word you say,_

_But I can’t stop listening_

“Might be an emergency, Roxas,” Lea purrs with an enthusiasm that can only come from using someone’s own words against them. Roxas has interrupted more than one past intimate moment between them with similar logic. 

Roxas gives a sigh without any real malice to it. 

_This is the story of how they met_

_Her picture was on the back of a pack of cigarettes_

Lea’s fur-trimmed hood falls back, as he tilts his head to raise brows at Roxas who has taken it upon himself to ease Lea’s coat zipper down. 

_And when she touched him, he turned ruby red_

“What, _here?”_ Lea teases, eyes widening, mouth dipping open in exaggerated implication. Both of their faces are flushed from the blood rush that came with hanging upside down, and it gets his mind wandering. His hand rises to squeeze Roxas’ shoulder. The afternoon wind rustles the surrounding forest treetops and tugs charmingly at strands of his loose red-gold hair, sparkling with bits of snow.

“I don’t think so.” Roxas smiles back, small, slanted, a little tired, as he reaches into Lea’s coat. The rock music blares a little louder as he slips his hand into an internal pocket around Lea’s midriff and extracts the Gummiphone. “We don’t all have fire in our veins.” 

Lea’s hand slips down to squeeze around Roxas’ waist where his jeans meet the slight puff of his white parka. “I can think of a few things that might make you feel like you do.” Fire flickers in his green eyes, tempting, teasing. “And there’s nobody around for miles...” His gaze shifts out past the mansion courtyard, frosted white with ice, and over the treetops of the nearby wood, sharp and barren, revealing the narrow paths between their trunks still and empty. “It wouldn’t be the highest place in Twilight Town I’ve made you moan, but…” 

“Nice try.” Roxas sets his bare hand over Lea’s leather glove to prevent it from drifting any lower, reveling in the warmth to his numbing fingertips. A more indulgent smile is exchanged. “Maybe after we get the rest of the decorations up.” He holds out the Gummiphone. 

_My old aches become new again_

_My old friends become exes again_

_Whoa. Where did the—_

The ring tone pauses where Lea cut off his recording, replaced by the chime of clock tower bells, his text tone. 

Lea doesn’t reply, swiping through his phone with a slight frown and lifting his hand from below Roxas’ to rub at the back of his neck. 

“Isa, again, huh?” Roxas observes, catching sight of the Gummiphone screen. A photo Lea had snapped in Radiant Garden several months back appears, Isa hugging his newly adopted, scruffy German Shepherd puppy to his chest, meeting its eyes with rare, open affection, which it eagerly returned with a floppy tongued grin. Sometimes it still takes Roxas by surprise how at ease Isa looks compared to the overworked, overpowering Saïx. He wonders if Lea felt the same way when he’d taken the photo. 

Roxas rises from his crouch and dusts sharp smelling pine needles from his coat and pants. 

Lea nods, eyes going skyward for a moment, watching crows rise against the light gray, chasing a colorless sun. His lips take on that tiny bittersweet smile Isa gives him. “Think sometimes he misses when he got to decide what you and I were doing every minute of every day.” 

Roxas chuckles, light and agreeable. “That’s why we live on another planet, right?” A breeze bites his ears and Roxas raises his hood, white fingers pausing in the tawny brown lining for warmth. “Tell him I’m keeping you out of trouble,” Roxas offers with a teasing smile, speaking over his shoulder as he steps to the edge of the roof, “oh, and figure out what dude wants for Christmas, okay? I’ll go get us some hot cocoa or something.” It’s not unusual for Roxas to bow out of listening to Lea and Isa’s phone conversations. They tend to be lengthy, full of petty squabbles and requests they both visit more. 

Lea’s brow furrows. He keeps forgetting about the present thing. He’ll have to find something for Roxas. “Christmas doesn’t really work like that in Radiant Garden, angel face…” he begins softly, looking up from the loading text message to watch as Roxas hops off the side of the roof and glides down the wall, sneakers skidding against the brick siding, raising yellow sparks, before landing lightly near the front steps of the mansion. 

“What did you say?” Roxas hollers, hands cupped around his mouth, fresh snow nestling in his golden hair and on his pink cheekbones, whirling around him like he’s something mystical and holy. 

Lea leans over the side and swishes his hand to indicate they’ll talk later before glancing down to the message from Isa, which says simply: **XI and Corona POH. believe they can heal tree.**

 _XI,_ Lea translates mentally, _a.k.a. Marluxia, going by Lauriam these days, what with his memories returning._

 _POH a.k.a. Princess of Heart from Corona._ Punz. _Rapunzel. Fiery and sweet, if a bit naïve._

She’d reminded Lea a bit of how Roxas had been before life had pushed him too far... 

Lea figures Isa must have been typing in haste to resort to his old Organization report shorthand. _He’s usually so careful with names._

These thoughts fly in and out of Lea’s head in seconds, leaving him stuck on the most important bit. The air starts to feel thinner, he’s not sure he can breathe. He dials Isa’s number, his mind a frantic spiral like the whirls of snow that kiss his face, melting, burning, as he looks out at the forest with fresh eyes and lets his memories drag him back to a colder winter.


	2. How Does a Moment Last Forever?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lea/Isa centric flashback - the rest of the fic will focus more on Axel/Roxas

Winters in Radiant Garden had a bite to them and no one knew it better than Isa and Lea. It was easier whiling away the hours between when the last school bell rang and when the group home dinner bell did when roaming the streets didn’t put them at risk of pneumonia and frostbite. But returning to the group home too early posed its own risks, namely, being forced to spend what little free time the day afforded them in near silence, chipping away at school assignments or participating in pre-approved activities such as reading, chess, embroidery, puzzles, sketching, checkers… None harmful in their own rights, but when one did them _every single fucking day..._

So, none of the townsfolk were particularly surprised to find the pair of ragtag hooligans ambling through the Christmas market booths in the dying bronze rays of late afternoon. They wandered through aisles hung overhead with twinkle lights and vines of holly and walked too close together, sometimes hand-in-hand to fend off the thin cutting air—or so they claimed. The pair of them kept a finger to the pulse of the town, always looking for fresh mischief to get up to until the kingdom guard or the dropping temperature dragged them back to the home.

The day that Lea remembers, they had been loitering behind the neat wood and canvas Christmas market booths that crowded the kingdom square, munching on still warm gingerbread cookies the baker’s assistant had snuck them, and debating over whether the tent awnings would hold their combined weight if they managed to climb atop them, and if anyone would notice them atop them if they were able to jump or lower themselves atop _very lightly._

Isa asserted the idea was ludicrous, and the tops of the booths would be wet and frigid besides. Lea asserted that Isa didn’t know what he was talking about and was just being chicken. Isa was wiping crumbs from their coats, about to agree to help Lea try it just to prove himself right, when someone gripped both of them by the back of the collars, and gave them a firm tug back, away from the ladder they were about to borrow.

“I don’t think so.”

Lea shrieked and Isa groaned as one of the young, regular kingdom guards, Dilan, began to haul them back toward the center of the marketplace and into the watchful view of the townsfolk. 

“I’m not even going to tell you what a stupid idea that was,” Dilan said in his pointed yet gruff high-class accent—the one that marked him as nobility and led to many prying questions as to why he chose to work as a guard instead of sit pretty in his family home, none of which he ever answered. “I think you know.”

Lea and Isa considered Dilan one of the better guards to get caught by as he tended to make his lectures blessedly concise, and he sometimes took it upon himself to buy them food or essentials, though they knew even then he wasn’t strictly supposed to. 

“It’s a few days before Christmas. Where’s the old coat I gave you, Lea?” 

Dilan marched them a few paces forward in silence and Lea willed himself not to shiver. His arms weren’t bare but his sweater was thin and worn, a graying blue with a hole in one elbow. _The coat had been nice. Classy. Thick wool with silk lining. Little visible wear. Glossy buttons. Flammable._

“Don’t need one,” Lea replied, sounding more like he was bragging than he should have. He’d been young and using his fire magic to keep warm had taken a great deal of concentration and energy. More than he tended to have left at the end of the school day. 

“What nonsense. Isa,” Dilan gave his shoulder a gentle shake, “where’s the coat I gave Lea?”

Isa paused, considering. He didn’t like to betray Lea’s trust and he knew snitches get stitches as well as the next guy, but he also knew Dilan wasn’t likely to let this drop. “Granna’s fixing it.” Everyone had known Granna, a local old matronly woman with a fondness for gardening, dandelions, children, and telling colorful legends of heroes who fought dark shadow monsters with giant keys. 

Dilan didn’t bother to hide the twitch of a smile playing at his lip. “And what happened to it?”

Lea mumbled something and Dilan’s eyebrow rose. “Didn’t quite catch that.”

“I said it caught fire.”

_“Fire?”_

Lea’s lip jutted out. “A little bit.” 

Isa sighed. 

“Just the sleeve, basically.”

They both jolted as a great, melodious roar of laughter ripped from Dilan’s throat. “Why the gods thought to bless _you_ with magic will forever be a mystery to me. As if you don’t get up to enough trouble without.” 

“Hey,” Lea’s chest puffed out, his arms swinging, “I’m gonna be a big shot hero someday! Maybe I’ll join the guard just like you. Just you wait.” 

“Heroes don’t set fires, Lea,” Isa scowled, but there was amusement in his light eyes, bluer paired with the indigo scarf tied neatly around his throat. “They put them out.”

“You’ll both see.” Lea huffed, crossing his arms, as Dilan chuckled, and trying to stave off another shiver as the breeze spit harder at his face, crystalized air piercing pale skin with little baby fat remaining as a buffer despite his youth. “Just you wait,” he mumbled as the shiver took him fully, and Dilan’s arm settled more snuggly around his shoulders, warm, strong, and sure. Lea let himself be propelled forward, not toward the center square as expected, but on a quieter road leading toward the wood on the outskirts of the kingdom. 

Isa opened his mouth to counter with something snarky, but Dilan pulled them to a halt just as abruptly as he’d begun pulling them away from their latest scheme. His starched white gloves raised between them, brokering peace. “Boys, boys, boys…Please.” They watched him peel off his gloves, handing them off to Isa as he began to unbutton the shiny gold buttons of his guard’s uniform coat. “I have a little proposition for you, a special job, but only if you stop fighting.” Underneath his uniform, Dilan wore only a black cotton shirt, but the cold didn’t seem to bother him as he draped the thick, oversized military coat around Lea’s shoulders and squeezed. “How does that sound?”

Eyes still on Lea buried in the coat, Isa mustered up a thin smile, “We’d be glad to help.”

“Hold on,” Lea yanked his arms hastily through oversized sleeves, fantasizing one day he’d be tall and muscular enough to fill it out, “this sounds like chores.” He raised a red brow. “What do we get if we help you?”

Isa rolled his eyes and nudged Lea’s shoulder with his own, setting him stumbling a step. “We get not ratted out for causing trouble, idiot.”

“I’ll do you one better.” Dilan reached out an arm to steady Lea and nodded toward the wood, “I’ll take you to see the Tree of Bound Souls.” 

The boys’ eyes went wide with childlike wonder that betrayed their jaded demeanors. 

“...Really?” Isa breathed stepping into the arm Lea opened up to him, oversized sleeve draping his shoulders over his own carefully, if colorfully patched, sensible gray peacoat. 

“No shit?” Lea echoed. 

Dilan nodded solemnly but his smile grew teasing. “You just have to promise me you won’t burn it down.” 

* *

As they did every year in the days leading up to Christmas, Isa and Lea had attempted to persuade a number of guards to take them to see the Tree of Bound Souls and tried hunting the woods surrounding the kingdom for it themselves with little success. 

The group home did not always have sufficient staff to escort the orphans to Radiant Garden’s yearly Christmas evening celebration, which took place around the Tree of Bound Souls, so it had been a few years since Isa and Lea joined the procession of revelers singing carols and clutching candles down the winding, labyrinthine, lantern-lit path to the broad circular grove it resided in.

The Tree of Bound Souls was an ancient looking, willowy tree, tall as a house with a massive trunk that would take a half dozen grown men with their arms outstretched to wrap around. Its roots stretched long and deep across the broad clearing of dirt made smooth with a hundred boot prints and growing tufts of stubborn, graying wild grass. It had pure, white bark like parchment paper and just as smooth to the touch in the spaces where it was not carved with hundreds of pairs of names. Names connected by X’s and +’s and etched hearts, some fresh and deep, some soft and illegible and faded with time. 

While the other deciduous trees of the forest had long since shed their browning leaves, the Tree of Bound Souls still bore a million crimson hearts on its branches, tinged with bleeding gold along their edges where the cold seeped in. They glittered in the late, thinning yellow sunlight where crystals of frost clung to their skin. 

Lea gasped, marveling, and Isa covered his heart with his hand like it hurt and clung to one of Lea’s oversized coat sleeves. 

“It looks so different in the daytime,” Lea murmured, one of his hands resting over Isa’s, and it didn’t feel like enough. 

Dilan nodded and stepped between the young men and the tree, gesturing upward with the arm not securing the rakes he’d fetched along their journey to his shoulder. “I don’t know how well you remember. This tree is sacred to our people. On Christmas the branches will be bare and hung with candles and wreaths of mistletoe and flower blossoms.”

“Candles for light, mistletoe for love, and flowers for prosperity…” Isa recites, thinking of the explanation from kindly Aerith, often game to let them spend an hour in the greenhouse she tended if they listened to her advice, never swore, and helped her with snipping, watering, weeding… 

Dilan nodded once more, eyebrows rising. The boys often impressed him with their knowledge and inquisitiveness, despite their propensity to meddle, steal, _break..._

“Anyone wishing to ask for someone’s hand in marriage will offer them a wreath from the Tree of Bound Souls. If they agree, they’ll seal their promise with a kiss and become engaged.” Dilan takes another step forward, his eyes roaming the tree, lost in a reverie of the past. “Then, the following year, after they’ve been married in the months between, they’ll carve each other’s names into the tree bark, binding their souls in this life and every life after it.” 

He glanced back to Isa and Lea, amused by their solemnness, noting their twitching limbs. 

“Go on. You can touch it if you like. I know you want to.” 

The boys near tripped over themselves racing to the tree, their hands skimming over names new and old, chattering to each other and pointing out oddities. Dilan followed along at length, shaking his head, chest warming despite the chill. 

“Now, our duty today is to clear away all the leaves you see above you,” he watched their chins lift. _That was a hell of a lot of leaves._ “That will give space for the ornaments, candles, and wreaths to be hung. As you know, I can summon wind magic, but I imagine there will still be a fair amount of grunt work to be done. I’ve brought you both a rake—” Dilan cut himself off, apparently aware that neither kid was listening any longer.

Isa had turned to him, mouth half open, hand half raised in question.

“Yes, Isa?”

“Have _you_ ever kissed anyone under the Christmas tree, Sir Dilan?”

Lea turned at that, intrigued as well, grin devilish. 

“The Tree of Bound Souls. Yes, Isa. Once.” Dilan’s eyes traveled back up to the leaves, but Lea had the feeling he wasn’t really thinking about the job they had to do any more.

“Was it…” Isa hesitated, and Lea’s eyes shifted back to him, Lea’s heart rate picking up. “Magical…?”

Dilan beamed unexpectedly, though his eyes still looked a little sad. “I… I thought it was.” 

Isa nodded the same satisfied way Lea expected he would have done if Lea had fallen through one of the Christmas booth awnings earlier. 

Lea turned, hands landing on his hips as he scanned the tree anew. “Where is it?” Lea stretched onto his tiptoes and pulled the military coat more tightly around himself. “I can’t find your name anywhere.”

It took long enough for Dilan to reply that Isa and Lea both turned back to him, eager expectation lighting their eyes as they stepped together like gravity pulled them that way.

“And you won’t find it.”

“Oh,” said Isa.

Lea glanced between them as they shared a knowing, pained look, blurting, “How come?” 

“Hush.” Isa grabbed his arm and started to drag him away, Lea’s feet stumbling to find purchase among the knotted roots. “It’s rude to ask.” He pulled Lea back beneath the tree and they watched Dilan stepping away, closing his eyes and raising his hands which glowed faintly violet with magic. A soft breeze began to rise, tugging at his thick, dark dreads like wind chimes. 

Ordinarily, Isa and Lea would have been enraptured by this display, but they had a lot to think about at that moment. Lea slumped down, sitting with his back against the tree and looking up at the glittering heart shaped leaves and the thousands of etched names again, a little breathless. Isa seated himself beside him, a few inches away and Lea scooted closer until their shoulders touched. Isa watched him carefully. Lea’s heart was still beating too fast. 

Lea patted the bark. “Someday I’m going to burn your name into this big old tree.” 

Isa’s lip curled into something that struck Lea as a little snide. “You’d have to kiss me first.” 

Lea raised his brows and began to rummage below the oversized coat and into the pocket of his worn brown trousers. The clump of leaves and twigs and glossy red berries he produced were crumpled and wanting but Lea’s smile said he didn’t notice. “I’ll kiss you now.” 

Isa rolled his eyes, his smile softening. “That’s _holly,_ Lea. Not mistletoe.” 

“So?”

“So, you’re supposed to propose with mistletoe or else it doesn’t count.”  
  
“It’s just pretend anyway, Isa.” Lea dangled the holly playfully in front of Isa’s nose, brushing his cheek with the leaf. “Who cares?”

 _“I_ do,” Isa muttered, frowning and swishing the offering away. “Besides, we’re not old enough to get married.” He hefted his knees up and wrapped his arms around worn black denim. 

Looking back, it strikes Lea that Isa was still thinking about Dilan, who he’d later learn had been cheated on, had his heart broken into shards. He’d brought them along because he hadn’t wanted to be alone with the tree that was supposed to bind his heart with someone who didn’t love him back. 

“Maybe when I’m older, I’ll want to carve someone else’s name into the tree,” Isa countered, cold at first and then sweet, staring up at the leaves, near translucent when the sun hit them right, “Someone smart and strong and who doesn’t bite off the leg of my gingerbread man while it’s still _in my mouth.”_  
  
Lea chuckled at the last bit but there was a dull ache inside him that he didn’t have a name for. “I hope so,” he answered, words breezy, taunting. “You’re not very romantic.” 

“Look alive, boys!” Dilan called in warning, heavy brows furrowing as he realized where they’d planted themselves while he’d been summoning. A gale of wind burst forth from the ether, sweeping through the entire tree, freeing each and every leaf, shaking every single branch, and tearing through Isa and Lea as well in a single fierce icy blast that left them clinging to each other, blinking, trembling, mouths open. 

They sat in silence for a moment, shivering as red leaves fluttered down around them like summer rain. 

A bubble of laughter spilled from Lea’s lips as he stared at the now bare twig of red holly berries pinched between his fingers. “Guess that’s a no on the kiss then?”

Isa scoffed and nudged Lea’s shoulder harder than strictly necessary, his hand reaching out to snag his shirt collar and pull his face closer. He pressed his thin, dry lips to the squirming Lea’s cheek, leaving behind a warm burn. 

“I love you now, stupid,” Isa whispered, and Lea watched his sharp cheekbones flushing pink as Isa turned away, arms crossing. 

Lea settled one arm around his shoulders anyway and picked up a leaf with his free hand.

“But forever’s a long ass time?” Lea asked, twirling the leaf in his fingertips, examining the gold branching through it.

“Yes.” He could hear the smirk in Isa’s voice as he laughed. “You’ll be lucky if I’m still dating you _next week._ Proposing with holly and trying to get me to climb on top of the Christmas market stalls like a lunatic… You need to find someone as crazy as you are.”

It was Lea’s turn to roll his eyes. Dilan was approaching and Lea gripped the tree trunk, feeling the ridges of etched names under his fingertips as he stood and offered a hand down to Isa. “I’ll get you another gingerbread man.”

Isa took his hand. “You had better.” 

* *

  
The memory fades into a more recent one. Isa’s grip on his arm tightening with every step as they walked through the clearing toward what was left of the Tree of Bound Souls after the Heartless got to it. It stood skeletal and leafless, split down the center as if by a bolt of lightning. Its branches twisted and curled in on themselves and its trunk had been charred, all the names scorched beyond recognition. 

“Dead.”

“Should have guessed.” 

“I had hoped, perhaps…”

“I know, man. I know. Me too.” 


	3. Kiss the Girl

Lea hangs up the phone before Isa can answer it. He doesn’t have the words. It’s too much to hope for. It’s too much in general. And that’s without going into the implications. Isa’s been talking about proposing to Terra for a while now, but he’d wanted to do it right, traditional, by-the-book. Funny, Lea mused, how his best friend had never stopped being a five-year-plan guy. Still, Lea hadn’t realized what lengths he’d intended to go to _. If it works, everyone in Radiant Garden will be able to… Will be thinking about…_ Lea can still feel the slap of wind across his face and the brush of leaves on his shoulders. 

Lea’s been watching the sun creep out from behind thick clouds and it starts to sting his eyes. He shakes his head and tucks his phone away. He’ll think of a reply and send it later. Right now, the only thing on his mind is his overwhelming need to crush Roxas to his chest and never let go. It takes a few tries, but Lea manages to conjure a portal of light instead of darkness and passes through it into the kitchen. Roxas doesn’t notice him come in. He’s by the stove, bent over a set of four mugs, kettle in hand, humming one of those Christmas-y, boyband pop songs. Lea creeps up behind him, and Roxas’ spine straightens two seconds before Lea’s yanking him back into his chest and crushing his rib cage. 

“Hey!” Roxas startles, swinging the kettle and the hot milk hisses as it sloshes, fizzling on the stovetop.

“Hey…” Lea echoes, over sweet.

Roxas’ body stays tensed for a few cautious breaths and then he relaxes against the familiar curves and angles behind it. “You could just say hello first, you know.” 

“Oops.” Lea presses an apology kiss into Roxas’ hair, adorably mussed from where his hood had sat, and squeezes low around Roxas’ waist. Roxas has abandoned his coat and pulled on a sweater of Lea’s that he’d left lying on a kitchen chair. The Good Fairies had given it to him last Christmas, at the king and queen’s holiday party, his first Christmas as one of the good guys. It was a black, red, and gray number with a design around the neck that resembled his chakram. It looks like a dress on Roxas, and it’s soft and warm against Lea’s massaging hands. 

“What happened to calling Isa?” Roxas asks as he readies ingredients from a cabinet above. Their conversations are rarely _short_ unless there’s some kind of argument involved.

“Couldn’t get him,” Lea shrugs, as Roxas stirs blocks of chocolate into each mug, “and then I started to miss you.” Lea offers a broad smile, and Roxas looks up because he doesn’t want to miss it. Lea gently sways their hips from side to side. “You know I don’t like sitting on rooftops alone.” 

“Psh.” Roxas blows air up, fluttering his bangs. “So dramatic.” His laugh is bright as he dashes the tops of the drinks with cinnamon and turns to press a _Baby, It’s Cold Outside_ mug into Lea’s hand. Hot chocolate sloshes his bare hand as Roxas starts again.

_“JINGLE BELL TIME! IT’S A SWELL TIME, TO ROCK THE NIGHT AWAY!”_

They tilt their heads as screamed lyrics resound from the room beside them. Lea chuckles. “Since you’re here though,” Roxas gestures with one of the mugs, “wanna go check how the tree’s coming along before we head back up on the rooftop?” 

Lea’s spoon clatters against the side of his mug at the mention of a tree, but he shakes it off, nods. 

When they first moved into the old mansion, they had considered renovating the large room on the ground floor to be a family room of sorts, but quickly decided they wanted something cozier, and settled for a snug space off the kitchen. It had since been crammed with thrift store finds: two couches, four bookshelves, a coffee table, and it also sported three paintings, a TV, a particularly beaten-up foosball table donated by Hayner, a fireplace (allegedly haunted), and most recently, a live evergreen.

“That was fast,” Xion teases as Roxas and Lea duck inside. 

“We’re taking a hot chocolate break, and Roxas thought we should share the love,” Lea holds out the mugs, a peace offering for his slacking. 

“What?” Xion grins, dancing up to them to the beat of “Jingle Bell Rock,” setting the bell at the end of her elf hat jangling, and accepting the steaming drink from Roxas. “Thank you!”

“How sweet.” Naminé joins them with a warm smile, tapping at her Gummiphone to lower the music, and readjusting her reindeer antler headband. “But we know you really just wanted to see our tree. Come on, you can tell us what you think.” She takes a mug from Lea and leads him gently by the hand toward her latest creation. 

It had been a year and a half or so since the Guardians of Light saved the worlds, and about six months since the four of them had settled into the renovated Twilight Town mansion. They had wanted to pull out all the stops to make their first Christmas season in their first home a memorable one, but with three of the four of them enrolled in community college (Xion had opted to accept an apprenticeship at Remy’s Bistro) and keeping up with magic and keyblade training in the meantime, money was tight. Naminé had proposed a budget-friendly nature theme to their decor, using mostly materials they gathered from the nearby crop of woods that led up to the mansion gate, and she proceeded to work miracles with it. 

Lea, Roxas, and Xion had selected and hoisted home a small but sturdy tree, but Lea hadn’t been certain the fragile branches were up to the task of decking it out like the dazzling twelve-foot monolith in the Twilight Town square. Naminé and Xion had pulled through, as they always did. Its branches are hung with blue and gold orbs of spun glass, small shells from their last trip to the beach threaded with twine, and simple white fairy lights. A dried starfish is affixed to the uppermost branch and corked bottles of different colored gold and pink sand from various worlds have been settled around its trunk. 

“Wow,” Roxas murmurs, his eyes going bright and his fingertips reaching to rub at the pine needles. “It’s like a little piece of Destiny Islands, right here. I can almost taste the beach. Sora would love it.” 

“It’s gorgeous…” Lea agrees, nodding. He stays where he is to admire the full view, though in the back of his mind, he’s still thinking of another tree hung with a rainbow of exotic flowers and candles and pure white mistletoe berries and wondering if Roxas would look at that one with the same breathless wonder. Lea forces his smile a watt brighter. The display in front of him really is beautiful in its own right. He needs to focus on now. “You two did all this?”

“Mhm,” Xion nods eagerly. “Well...the tree anyway. Roxas hung a lot of the greenery Naminé and I weaved while you were in class,” she motions to a braid of evergreen branches twined with twigs bearing dark silvery-blue berries, laid across the fireplace mantle. He spots several more, nestled at the center of the coffee table and crowning the bookshelves. He’s sure there are more scattered throughout the house. 

“Beautiful.” Lea sets his hands on his hips as he surveys their work. “And this place smells amazing. Gods. Good work, ladies.” He flashes Naminé and Xion a smile and, then shifts his gaze down to Roxas, who has gravitated back to his side. “And you, too, sunshine. Although, I’m left wondering how you reached the top shelf without me.” 

“Ha. Ha.” Roxas elbows Lea sportingly in the ribs. “At least I don’t hit my head on a chandelier every time I walk into Remy’s.” 

“That was only, like, three times...” 

It’ll be a dry day in Atlantica before Lea doesn’t tease him for standing on an ottoman, a chair, or a washing machine, but Roxas can never quite smother the very edge of his smile, so Lea figures he’ll keep doing it forever. He knows perfectly well Roxas finds Lea’s height attractive, not to mention the fact that Lea can pick him and pin him down and… Lea halts those thoughts by backtracking to the fact that he had just thought the word _Forever._ Like it was the simplest thing in the world when it was, in fact, the exact opposite. 

“That reminds me, actually,” Roxas says over the rim of his hot chocolate mug, stray flecks of cinnamon on his bottom lip, that Lea will refrain from licking off at the moment, in accordance with Naminé’s house rules, subsection 8: _Keep it PG._

“I have a surprise for you.” Roxas holds out his palm, flashing the undersides of his nails painted their usual matte black, but with a red accent on one middle finger and a green one on the other courtesy of Xion. 

Lea’s brows rise, and he twines their fingers together. “Lead the way.”

Roxas grins brightly and, once their hot chocolates are left to cool on the coffee table, tugs Lea along, out of the room and through hallways hung with more greenery and paper snowflakes. Naminé and Xion opt to stay in the living room, giggling and whispering to each other. The music picks up again, something slower, notes sweet, hopeful, and light. 

Roxas leads Lea up the winding central staircase that leads up to the mansion’s central, uppermost turret. Rather than follow the stairs all the way up, Roxas pulls them onto a landing where a stone bench they had at some point thought to soften with throw pillows sits below an abstract stained-glass window, casting those seated in dazzling rays of yellow, purple, orange, and green. Suspended from a rafter hangs a string and suspended from the string is a bundle of green leaves and white, glossy berries, tied off with a crimson bow. Roxas pulls Lea below the bundle and they both look up for a moment. 

“Surprise…” Roxas whispers.

Lea’s green eyes get wide and round. His gasp is small and then his smile is enormous. “Roxas…” 

_Is he asking me, what I think he’s asking me?_

Roxas’ smile grows sly, one brow rising, “Yeah?”

“Is that… mistletoe?”

“Oh.” Roxas pretends to notice it for the first time. “Looks like it is.” Lea’s reminded of Roxas’ early days in the Organization, before he fully came into himself, looking at the world through bright, confused eyes. Christmas tends to bring that out in him again: a world of new traditions and possibilities to explore.

Mistletoe. _Roxas is…_ He can’t wrap his mind around it. _Proposing to him?_

_Does he want to stand by my side for the rest of his life, our life, this one and the next?_

_Me?_

_Me, the former assassin, liar, dark, psychotic, possessive… No._

_I’m not. I’m not anymore._

_Does he realize I couldn’t have, wouldn’t have turned my life around without him by my side?_

_My spark, my star, my sunset. My light in the dark._

_Does he want to give his heart and soul to me? Does he think I’m worth it?_

_And how did he know how to ask?_

“Roxas…” Lea takes Roxas’ hands in his. Running his thumbs across the backs, he gazes down into his eyes, the familiar, startling, ocean blue depths that have melted him with a look on his worst days. He releases Roxas’ hands and bear hugs him instead. 

Roxas laughs with a startled “Oof” and softens into the embrace. “What’s that for?” he teases.

Lea’s hyper aware of the tiny, impossibly strong form against his. The body that the Organization had shaped into a weapon and then Roxas had shaped into his own. Roxas had shown him a new resilience and determination in his training and then in his leaving, that had inspired his own change of heart, change of life. “Are you sure?”

“Am I sure I want to kiss you?” Roxas’ hands worm between them to pull at Lea’s chest, bring it closer to him. “Always.” 

“Roxas. Roxas, Roxas. Roxas.” Lea stares down into his adorable, gorgeous, angelic face again, and resists the urge to kiss every inch of it. “I love you so much, Roxas. I don’t know if my new heart can take it. It feels like it’s burning out the inside of my chest.” He smooths one of Roxas’ hands against his rapid heartbeat beneath his coat. “But… how did you know about the mistletoe and the tree…? Did you talk to Isa…?”

“Isa?” Roxas leans back a bit, his lip jutting out in a confused pout. “No? I’m not sure what you mean, but… I love you, too. I love every beat of your heart.” Roxas’ fingers dig into his t-shirt. “Y’know, I wasn’t expecting you to get this… mushy about a little bit of mistletoe.” He grins, like he’s thinking Lea’s some kind of secret Christmas sap.

 _Fuck._ Lea’s heart stops entirely in his chest and then he blinks heat out of his eyes. 

“Right…” Lea leans back himself, raising a hand to Roxas’ shoulder to hold him in place. “Mistletoe in Twilight Town is…” his voice thins, cautious, “for what, exactly, again?”

Roxas raises both brows now, jerking his shoulder back to find that Lea won’t release it. “Kissing?” His eyes narrow. He’s perceptive, he knows something’s off. He tries to move himself back against Lea’s chest, but Lea’s firm grip won’t let him move forward either. 

“Right.” Lea takes a step back. His eyes are really heating up. And to think for a moment, he had thought Roxas wanted… “Kissing.”

He stares back up at the mistletoe and resists the urge to snap his fingers and send it up in smoke.

“I’m not doing that. I’m sorry.” He gives Roxas’ shoulder an apologetic squeeze and then takes several steps back. His throat is constricting on itself. 

_I’m so fucking stupid._

“You’re… not _doing that_ …?” Roxas is going from confused to a little pissed, his arms crossing. “Are you kidding right now?”

“No, I mean, Roxas,” Lea’s voice sounds foreign to himself, soft yet too cold, “I can’t… Kiss you. Right now.” 

“That’s… not what you said last night.” Roxas’ voice has gotten flat. “Shit, that’s not what you said ten minutes ago when you were trying to blow me on the roof.” His laugh is blunt, skeptical. He still isn’t sure if Lea’s teasing or not. He has that dangerous tone like a door ten seconds from slamming shut whether somebody’s foot is wedged in the way or not. 

Lea turns away, pressing his thumb and forefingers to his shut eyes to try and keep the water in. Some days he misses those fucking tattoos.

_What was I thinking?_

_Of course he doesn’t want to marry me._

“I’m sorry, Roxas…” Lea manages but his voice has gotten thin, choked.

Roxas reaches out to grab his arm when he steps away, and instead of the furious clamp Lea was expecting, his touch is gentle. 

“I don’t understand. What’s going on right now?” 

Roxas sounds so hurt and confused, Lea turns back instinctually to offer reassurance but the burn of tears stinging his cheeks only enhances Roxas’ wide-eyed panic.

“It’s not you. Okay?” Lea sweeps forward again, arms wrapping Roxas’ neck, and sets a kiss on the top of his head, and then Lea turns back away. “I’m just…”

_Delusional. An idiot. Tearing myself up inside. A terrible boyfriend. A hopeless wreck. Completely fucked in the head and the heart._

“I just need a minute.” With this Lea pushes off from the landing and bounds up the stairs, two at a time. 

“Axel!” Roxas yells after him, runs after him, though his legs never have been able to keep up. “Axel, wait, talk to me. _What’s going on…?”_

* *

Christmas is Roxas’ thing. Lea likes Christmas because Roxas loves it. The color and light and celebration—the excitement and generosity and goodwill. Roxas wishes people could try that hard to celebrate life year ‘round. Since he’s gotten his heart back, gotten Lea and Xion back, every day feels like a thing worth celebrating. Even the ones that don’t go to plan are invaluable, because they’re days he gets to live as his own free person. Roxas wants Lea to see more of the joy in Christmas in Twilight Town too, but it tends to draw up melancholy memories, pulling him back to Christmas in Radiant Garden. 

It wasn’t much of a discussion, back when they were deciding where to live. Lea didn’t want to live in Radiant Garden anymore. So much of it had been destroyed when the world fell to Darkness, almost every life lost, and he said it hurt too much. He didn’t sleep much when they did stay there and talked a lot about ghosts.

So Roxas tries not to ask about Lea’s former home. It’s not hard since it’s full of a whole life Roxas knows nothing about. He tries to get Lea excited about Christmas here or in Destiny Island or at Mickey’s Castle. Roxas has no idea where his tiny, sweet, romantic holiday gesture went wrong. He’d assumed an excuse to make out in a secluded location had Lea written all over it. 

By the time Roxas makes it to the landing, Lea has smacked the door to the tower shut and bolted it. 

Of course, bolting the door against someone who can summon a giant key to their fingertips is pretty fucking stupid. 

Roxas opens his palm and Oblivion appears. He squeezes it until his knuckles whiten and then lets it go. It disappears in a flash of pink light. Lea had said he needed a minute. Roxas wants to respect that. Even if he doesn’t understand why. He slouches down to the floor and leans with his back against the door to wait. 

The more he thinks about it, the more he thinks Lea’s been acting a little funny since he got that call from Isa. And then he'd come inside weirdly quickly and tried to smother him. 

Roxas opens up his Gummiphone and pulls up Isa’s number. 


	4. (He's a Bit of a) Fixer Upper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added to the end of the previous chapter after posting because I missed a page.

Lea finds himself in the uppermost turret of the mansion. Naminé had declared it the perfect spot for a library, and using portals of light and careful angling, he’d helped her move in a bookshelf she had insisted would be the first of many, a lamp, an armchair that still smelled a little like potpourri, not unlike the old woman who had gifted it to them, and a multitude of bean bag chairs. It had two small boxy windows with bird’s eye views of the forests that surrounded the mansion, too low set in the wall for Lea to have put to much use. 

Tacked to the wall is a map of the Twilight Town night sky. He’d given it to Roxas, a reminder of the time they had spent an entire night up at the top of the clocktower, talking and cuddling and staring out into the vastness of the universe they might someday explore, until morning broke and Roxas cheekily asked Lea if he knew why the sun _rises_ red. 

Now Lea lies on the ground on top of four bean bag chairs, staring up at the cone-shaped ceiling of the turret with its glistening spiders’ webs, and audibly cursing himself. 

When Isa calls, he lets the phone ring for a long time before answering. 

“Hello? Lea?” Isa’s forever level voice rescues Lea like a _Cura_ when his vision starts to blur at the edges. 

He has to sniff back and swallow a fair bit of snot before he can speak. “Hey, Ize.” 

“Roxas called.” 

Lea’s heart stutters. Considerate seems like an understatement.

Isa pauses for Lea to explain himself. Lea knows how fond he is of reports, but he doesn’t want to go into this particular humiliation. Not to Isa with his perfect Somebody relationship and rational temperament. 

“Huh,” Lea says instead, switching the phone to his opposite hand and lifting the first above him to examine his knuckles, dry and scratched from the cold. 

“He told me you were having some kind of breakdown.” Isa takes a breath, and Lea has to remind himself perfection doesn’t come to Isa naturally, no matter how well he projects that sentiment. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have texted you about the Christmas tree. I should have come in person and told you myself. I…” 

_“Isa,”_ Lea cuts him off, hating to hear him apologizing for trusting Lea was emotionally stable enough to handle _good news._ “It’s alright.”  
  
“Oh?” Isa drawls slowly. “So, reports that you’ve locked yourself in a tower to cry have been greatly exaggerated? Because I’m here with Rapunzel right now and she’s raised concerns.” 

Lea tries to laugh, but it comes out more strangled than anything. “I need your help, Ize.”

“I assumed as much.” A pause on the other end of the line. 

Isa is multitasking. Lea could not be less surprised. He flexes his knuckles, deepening a crack in his skin until it trickles. 

“Well?” Isa poses more softly and yet still so authoritative. “Go on, then. Out with it. What’s the matter?”  
  
“I think…” Lea shuts his eyes and replays Roxas pulling him under the mistletoe, that mischievous, flirtatious look on his face. Lea’s immediate desire had been to say yes a thousand times and smother him with kisses. “I think I want Roxas to marry me.” 

Another pause, probably for Isa to roll his eyes. “Riku and I need another moment here to escort Rapunzel to Lauriam and the tree, and then I’ll be right over.” 

Lea’s chest gives an icy little heave to realize _Riku’s_ been listening to this conversation, but then he nods though Isa can’t see it and rubs between his eyes. “Bring Riku, too.”  
  
“Oh, you _have_ had a breakdown.” He can hear the judgement in Isa’s smile.

“Isa. Please. I…” Lea takes a slow breath, exhales. The tower is cold enough that his breath is a puff of steam, though the cold seeping into his bones has little to do with shoddy insulation. “I need him.” 

Isa huffs. “The things I do for you…” 

Lea dimly recognizes Isa’s familiar teasing as a ploy to distract him from his wallowing, but it still makes him feel the smallest fraction better. 

“Don’t do anything crazy before we get there,” Isa says. “Understood?”

Lea smudges at the cut in his knuckle with his thumb. He counts his heartbeats. Two. Three. 

“Lea?”

“Alright.”

Lea hears shuffling like Isa’s shifting the phone from his shoulder. _“And Riku, one more thing…”_ Isa’s voice is distant, but Lea can hear the familiar old command in it. Riku won’t be getting much say in the matter. 

The line disconnects.

* *

Xion answers Isa and Riku’s knock at the door. She’s not horribly successful at hiding her confusion about why they’ve come. Isa does visit fairly regularly, but never without notice. She’s especially baffled as to why they’re asking to be led to Lea and _No, it can’t wait,_ and, frankly, she’s a little irritated at their insistence that there isn’t time to explain. But she figures, coming from Isa and Riku, it must be important, so she does her best to make small talk about how everyone’s doing and then, when prompted, their day, the decor, Roxas’ plan with the mistletoe, as she leads them toward the stair. 

They eventually tell her they have news for Lea, which Isa figures isn’t exactly a lie. Xion hesitates at the foot of the staircase when they try to pass her to head up, an arm blocking their way. “Just so you know,” she begins, glancing up the steps and back, an odd kind of smile on her face, “they’ve been up there for kind of a while, so…” 

They blink back, uncomprehending. 

“So?” Riku says, palm spreading in a little shrug.

Xion tilts her head, a pink flush dusting her cheeks. “So, you might want to, you know…” She lifts her foot and brings it down hard, forcing a rusty creak from the first metal stair, “step loudly.” 

Isa frowns. “What do you mean?”  
  
“They might be…” Her flush deepens. “Busy.” Her hand swishes. “Romantically speaking.”

Isa puzzles this out for another moment and then gives a loud scoff. “Trust me, they’re not.” He side-steps her before she can object, but quickly turns back, says more kindly, “Thank you, Xion, dear. And,” he catches her eye, grimacing as her fingertips rise to one of her flushed red ears, “if you ever want to move…” He squeezes her shoulder. “Text me, I’ll make it happen.”

“Oh!” Xion takes a step back, hands rising, innocent. “Oh, no, it’s fine. They’re really not so bad. We have house rules and really thick walls and…”

Isa silences her with a curt nod, though his frown says he’s unconvinced and continues on his way. 

Riku snorts, ruffling Xion’s hair as he passes by. “Thanks, Xion.” 

“Sure.” She smiles warmly though something cool churns in her stomach as she watches them go, both looking somber as they glance back. “Good luck up there.”

* *

When Isa passes the mistletoe hanging on the landing by the stained-glass window, he pauses to examine it as Riku continues up the stairs. It’s a simple, beautiful location and he’s not surprised Lea jumped to conclusions, not after the conversation the two of them had just had and the memories it must have dredged up. Exasperation rising, Isa snaps the sprig down before following Riku up. He finds Roxas and him chatting, made unusually amiable by their mutual confusion.

“What are you doing here?” Roxas asks, sounding like he’s been hedging the question for a while at this point.

Riku eyes Isa warily. “I’m not really sure yet.” 

Roxas thanks Isa and Riku for coming anyway, and makes idle conversation about Kairi’s Grandma’s upcoming Christmas party, asking if Riku knows who will be there and if there’s anything he can bring. Isa stands straight and silent until the pleasantries fizzle and their eyes shift to him. 

“You think you know why he’s upset?” Roxas asks him finally. 

“This, obviously.” Isa dangles the mistletoe several feet from his body like one might a venomous spider. “Tell me, Roxas. What were you thinking?” His eyes might not be that uncanny Xehanort gold any longer but Roxas finds his glare can still slice. “Did you lose your nerve?”  
  
“What was I…?” Roxas echoes, brows furrowing, fingers curling and uncurling around his pant pockets.

“I was thinking mistletoe was a Christmas tradition Axel could get behind, since kissing me breathless is one of his favorite pastimes,” his arms cross his own eyes narrowing, “but clearly I’m missing something.”

Roxas glances to Riku, who shrugs a shoulder, and then back to Isa who’s watching his face for signs of deception and finding only earnestness. Isa realizes Roxas genuinely has no idea that on Radiant Garden mistletoe is used for proposals and proposals only. 

“I suppose it’s not entirely your fault.” Isa sighs, trying to gather together the fraying strands of his patience. “Lea’s homesick.” He tucks the berries into his coat pocket and pulls a handkerchief from the other to clean off his hand, folding it and tucking it away as well, before his eyes shift back to Roxas’. “I don’t understand. Has he never told you what Christmas is like back home?”  
  
Roxas shakes his head more forcefully than he knows he should. “ _Twilight Town_ is his home now.”

“Is that so?” 

“He doesn’t like to talk about growing up, alright? It makes him...” Roxas’ fingers stretch, reaching for a concept he has no word for. 

He imagines it’s like how he feels looking back at most of his days in Data Twilight Town, comforting, but fake, shallow. The Town still stands, it’s true, but those days had been filled with relationships with people who don’t remember him and events that never happened. Sometimes he still slips up talking to the gang. Buys Olette a smoothie he thinks she’ll love but she’s allergic too. Mentions a party he and Pence went to, and Pence gives him a pitying look. 

“Sad.”  
  
Isa’s lip twists down. Roxas knows he wants Radiant Garden to be a bigger part of Lea’s life than it is. It’s always made Roxas a little uneasy, like Isa doesn’t think the rest of Lea’s life, everything he has now, is enough. 

“That’s no excuse not to talk about it,” Isa asserts firmly. “You of all people should know the dangers of burying the past, running away. The Organization is a piece of us all.” 

Roxas makes a sour face and crosses his arms, and Isa pinches the bridge of his nose.

Isa’s aware Radiant Garden unsettles Roxas. It’s been repopulated by many former Organization members who, though they had mostly apologized and reformed themselves, hadn’t always been kind to him in the past. It’s also full of memories of Isa and Lea together. Isa understands forgiveness is a process—and jealousy’s not a foreign concept to him either—but it’s something Roxas is going to need to work at for Lea’s sake.

Isa drops his hand. “Alright,” he says at length, giving his head a dismissive little shake. “Alright.” He rubs at his temple, drops his hand. “You’re young. You’ll learn. It’s fine.” He turns and gestures for his companion, apparently finished with the conversation though to Roxas it doesn’t feel finished at all. “Come on, Riku.” Isa steps up to the turret’s door and tries the knob, only to find it locked. He glances over his shoulder, smirks a little. “You have a _keyblade,_ do you not?”

Roxas frowns. Saïx had never made Axel-y jokes like Isa does. Or maybe Roxas just hadn’t noticed. 

He’s attended some programs on relationships through the university, and the word _consent_ echoes through his mind. “I was trying to respect his boundaries.”

Isa snorts and gives the door three sharp raps. He was considering busting it open, but figures that would make him a rather terrible houseguest. 

“Isa?” Lea calls from within, voice hoarse. 

Isa smooths his expression and gives Roxas a smile he hopes is reassuring, “Go on downstairs, honey.” He pats Roxas’ shoulder, “I’ll sort him out.” 

Roxas’ arms remain stubbornly crossed, but he drops them as the door creaks. Lea opens it gingerly, just enough for Isa to step in and wrap him in a solid hug, kissing both of his cheeks.

“You sweet, hopeless dumbass…” Isa’s murmuring as he does. 

Lea’s smile is surprised, chagrinned, and then he glances up. For a moment Lea and Roxas lock eyes over Isa’s shoulder, both of their expressions flashing hot and cold, and then Isa’s pushing Lea back into the tiny library, murmuring soft reassurances woven with the occasional expletive, “You’ll be fine, my darling friend, you are so fucking melodramatic. Just breathe…”

Roxas’ shoulders slump and he bites at his lip to resist crying out in frustration—not with Riku still eying him with open curiosity. Roxas’ phone buzzes, and he curses. Glancing down to scan the message, he makes a grab for Riku’s arm before he can follow Isa inside. 

When their eyes meet, Roxas winces. “Hayner, Pence, and Olette just got here. I forgot they wanted to take us sledding. We’ve…” Roxas gestures between himself and the door, “never been.”

Riku’s hands are in his pockets, his expression blank. “Okay…?”

“Just.” Roxas hisses through his teeth as three more texts light his screen. He eyes the door, shut again. “Tell him I’m going to go down to talk to them, alright?”

Riku eyes him for a moment, noting the tension in his brows and shoulders, giving him a chance to change his mind before then nods. “Sure.” He turns, waving a few fingers over his shoulder. “See you at Kairi’s for Christmas, I guess?”  
  
“Yeah, we’re…” Roxas glances to the door, resists the urge to throw his phone down the staircase, “I’m…” 

Riku has paused in the doorway, examining him with a thoughtful expression. 

Roxas straightens his shoulders, smiles, sort of. “We’re looking forward to it.”


	5. Reflection

As soon as the door shuts behind Riku, Lea falls back into the beanbag chairs, knees up, eyes shut. Isa frowns and lowers himself gingerly to the floor beside him, and these two giant, muscular men, these former villains, thrown together with beanbags and pillows on the floor like children at a slumber party, strike Riku as absurd. He’d laugh if he didn’t think they would immediately lash him with their fierce glares. Riku settles into the only armchair in the tight, quiet space, so that all three of them are facing each other. Crossing his arms, he leans back to observe. 

“Lea, you’re being childish,” Isa begins without preamble.

Riku’s brows rise at his tone, completely flat and without compassion. _Isn’t he supposed to be Lea’s best friend?_

“Ha. You’re telling me.” Lea’s laugh is humorless, his voice still sounds worn down, lacking in its usual sharpness, humor, bravado. He flings an arm over his eyes. “Guess there’s no chance I can give my emotions back at this point, huh?” It’s not two second later before Lea shifts his arm to peek at Isa with one red-rimmed, electric green eye. 

Isa doesn’t speak for a long moment, then the corner of his lip turns up. “I’ll ask Even for you next time I see him.” 

Lea sets his arm back in place. “You’re a real pal.”

Riku sighs inwardly and grabs the first book he can reach from the shelf behind him. Romance novel. 

“Lea…” Isa does not sound deterred or concerned, maybe just a touch irritated. “If I give you a cookie, will you sit up and talk to me like an adult?”

Lea snorts, but peeks one eye open again. “Depends on the cookie.”

Isa produces a deep green tin from under his arm and sets it on the floor between them, slipping off the ribbon and lifting the lid to reveal a rich assortment of Christmas cookies. The scents of sugar, cinnamon, and ginger waft up to Riku. 

“Aeleus sends his regards and concerns that none of you are eating enough. I’ve assured him they’re unfounded.”

Lea rolls onto one arm and tentatively reaches for a snickerdoodle. Waving it, he watches the excess sugar sprinkle down. _Adult conversation,_ he thinks, trying to force himself to focus when his brain keeps trying to drag him under, drown him with thoughts and memories of _Roxas, Roxas, Roxas._

“How’s the tree coming along?” he asks at length.

Isa picks up a gingerbread cookie, examining the neat frosting details. “Lauriam thinks with Rapunzel’s healing capabilities, together they should be able to resurrect it. We’ve been clearing the surrounding area of Heartless and debris in preparation of that. She was enthusiastic about assisting us after I told her about our romantic Christmas traditions, and Riku was so kind as to pilot a Gummiship to escort her to us. 

“We’ve picked out a replacement as well of course, a stately old elm, and I’d propose to Terra with a crumpled piece of holly out of my pocket at this point…” Lea and Isa share a slow, genuine smile at the echo of a shared memory, though it makes Lea’s chest sting, thinking of Roxas. “Still, I think it will mean a great deal to everyone in Radiant Garden to have the tree returned, and I think Terra will adore it…” 

“Holly or mistletoe, Terra’s a lucky guy,” Lea says, and Riku takes note that this is what Lea being sincere sounds like: lower, softer, so much less affected. Lea sets down the cookie on the floor beside him, crumblier but unbitten. 

Isa’s fingers snap an arm off his gingerbread man. “Need I remind you, you’ve previously promised to be by my side when I propose to him?”  
  
“You _needn’t.”_ Lea tentatively meets Isa’s eye, looking like he’s got his hand snapped by something with teeth himself. He sighs. “I know I did...”  
  
“So,” the gingerbread man in Isa’s hand loses another two limbs to Isa’s long, golden fingers, though these go uneaten as well, “why is it that Roxas thinks the two of you are going to _Kairi’s_ Christmas party?”

“Look, Isa, I will be there. It’s just that Roxas is really excited about that party, and I didn’t want to piss him off before I’d decided what I’m doing. If Roxas comes to Radiant Garden with me, I have to propose. I can’t just stand in front of the Tree of Bound Souls after all this time, watch you propose, and not give my heart to Roxas. The gods would smite me.” Lea’s smile turns pained, he groans. “ _Roxas_ would smite me. I would _deserve_ to be smote...”

“Alright then.” Isa puts the bite size pieces of gingerbread into his mouth and chews. Riku flips a page in the book he isn’t reading. 

Lea gapes at Isa, his palms spread open, _“Alright then?”_

Isa sets down half his cookie in the tin, folds his hands on his knee. “I think you should.” 

One of Lea’s long legs stretches over the cookie tin to shove Isa in the knee. “You were the one who talked me out of it last time,” he exclaims, “and now it’s _Alright then?_ ”

Riku pauses in flipping another page, and glances between them. “Last time?”

“I didn’t talk you out of it,” Isa corrects with a patient kind of irritation, “we had a conversation and you admirably decided to wait.” 

Riku shuts his book emphatically. “Last time?”

Lea’s gaze darts his way, expression thoughtful, honest. “After the third battle of Kingdom Hearts… When I got Roxas back, I got a little…” His hand swishes in euphemism. 

“Obsessive,” Isa promptly supplies. “Possessive. Jealous.”  
  
Lea lifts a throw pillow and hugs it to his chest. “I couldn’t stand to leave his side. Not after everything we’d been through. How long we’d been apart.” He shakes his head, remembering the intense pain of the notion, how impossible to bear it had felt after having a void in his chest for so long. “Not for a second.”  
  
Isa’s turned his attention to Riku before Lea’s glower can reach him.

“He’s being literal.” 

Riku nods. The intensity of Lea and Roxas’ blossoming relationship—really the fact that they had a relationship at all, and admitted their feelings so freely and quickly—had taken him by surprise, but he had had so much else on his mind at the time. “I guess I kind of remember that.” 

Lea rolls onto his back again, speaks to the ceiling. “Roxas and I went on this sort of post battle vacation, right? Travelled the worlds a bit, and then eventually we started talking about settling down, so I made a ring. Wherever we ended up, I wanted the whole world to know he was completely and totally mine.” Plumes of smoke rise from his nostrils into the chilly air of the tower. 

Lea hears Riku grunt skeptically in reply.

“Anyway, I started second guessing myself,” Lea takes another breath, unclenches his jaw, “and so Isa and I talked it over, and he made me realize…”

“Ahem.”  
  
“ _Helped_ me to realize that I wasn’t proposing for the right reasons. That I was trying to take advantage of Roxas’ inexperience. Not so much inexperience with the different worlds or with maturity, because he got a crash course in both in the Organization and, frankly, he’s grown up too fast, but…” 

Isa gestures with a cookie, prods Lea in the side with his toe. “Get to the point, honey.”  
  
Lea growls, childishly pushing at the foot before he moves on. “He hadn’t had the chance to live a normal life yet. To make his own friends and make his own choices.”

“Well,” Riku starts to argue, only to find Lea speaking over him.

“At least, not outside of a simulation, anyway. And I was just rushing into things because the idea that his new friends might not like me or that he might like someone else that he met _more_ than he liked me made me want to, you know…” His fingers wiggle, smoke and sparks rising from his knuckles. “Commit arson.”

Riku fans the faint glimmer of smoke away from his face with the book and frowns his disapproval, though the fire wielder can’t see it from the ground. “When the arson is on people they call it murder, Axel.” 

Lea laughs, sharp, insincere. “Semantics.” 

“But look at you both now,” Isa intervenes. “Roxas has plenty of friends. Wouldn’t you say?” 

Lea shrugs. “I mean, he’s got all you keyblade wielders for one thing, and he’s always texting somebody in one of his classes...”  
  
“Hey…” Riku’s reopened the romance novel, but he sets it flat on his lap. “That reminds me, Roxas went out sledding with Hay-Hay and… Yeah, I don’t remember the rest of their names. The Twilight Town gang. He told me to tell you.” 

“Hayner, Pence, and Olette.” Lea bolts upright like someone who’s realized their alarm never went off. “Shit. Was that today? And he…” The hurt sets in anew, surprise melting into stiffness. “Roxas left to go sledding? Right now?”

“Guess so.” Riku picks up the book again. 

Lea lies back down, palming his forehead. “Well, I guess I started it, huh?” 

“See?” Isa leans back on his hand, chewing thoughtfully at the gingerbread man’s torso. “You’re handling your jealousy much better than you used to be. You’re not blaming anybody.” 

“Yeah, well…” He shrugs. “We’re all friends. And they didn’t mean to interrupt my meltdown.”

Lea sounds more than a little bitter to Riku, but he decides not to comment. 

“It took a little while,” Lea goes on, chuckling at the memory of Olette and her motherfucking baseball bat of nails, “but they warmed up to me.”

Isa smiles gently. “Because they saw how much you and Roxas mean to each other.”

Lea smirks. “I was going to credit my incredible personality, but fine, yeah, it was probably that.” His fingers lift to push back strands of hair that have fallen into his face, and then he turns to Isa again. “But is that enough? I haven’t let him date anybody else. I don’t think he’s ever even _kissed_ anyone else...”

Again, Riku decides it’s better to hold his tongue. What happens in the heat of battle stays in the heat of battle. _It hadn’t exactly been_ romantic, _and neither of them were quite themselves…_  
  
“Has he ever wanted to?” Isa eyes a stack of books half fallen over on the floor and leans over to straighten it. “I mean he’s never broken up with you.”  
  
“Of course not,” Lea’s smugness spreads, his hands folding over his stomach, as he winks Isa’s direction, “I don’t exactly leave him wanting, if you know what I mean.”

Isa chokes and fumbles the books he’s just piled, but it’s Riku who answers, dry and bemused, “You’re about as discreet as a snowman on Destiny Island.” 

Lea shrugs, head leaning back on a pillow, “As long as you all know.”

“But if you did,” Isa persists, “if you gave him too much or too little affection or attention, physical or emotional, you would know by now.”  
  
Lea laughs, thinking of the time Roxas got huffy Lea didn’t cuddle him enough before passing out after training every night for a week. “Yeah, I mean, he would have dumped my ass. I know what my Roxas needs and how to keep him happy.” 

“And it’s not like no one’s ever taken an interest,” Riku rests his head on his hand above the armrest.

Their silence feels abrupt and he hurries on, “I mean, I saw him and that Hayner guy teasing each other in Data-Twilight Town.” 

Lea snorts, sits up again to fix Riku with a skeptical look. “I guess Hayner did have kind of a _crush._ But that was cute. I mean. Look at Hayner. Look at me. That’s not really a fair competition.” 

“I’m sure Hayner has some…” Isa finishes stacking the books and lifts them, tilting his head and frowning. He’s not one to give false compliments, and he has to admit at over six feet of lean muscle and charisma, Lea’s not easy to compete with, “boyish charm?”

Riku counters much more easily, “And a lot less baggage.” 

Lea scoffs. “Roxas doesn’t mind my baggage, alright?” Lea may have invited the tag-teaming, but he’s not exactly enjoying it. “He’s got his own, and he’s always there for me. He understands.”

From the tone and the scowl and the pain in his voice, Riku’s not sure if Lea’s trying to convince them or himself. 

Isa hefts the stack over to the bookshelf, but pauses beside Riku’s chair to level with Lea, “The point is, Roxas _has_ had the chance to form other close relationships, and for whatever reason, he still chooses to be with you.” 

“Huh.” Lea tilts his head, considering, eyes drifting to the map of the Twilight Town sky. “Yeah,” his smile is small and soft, “I guess you’re right.” 

“Are you his therapist or his ex-boyfriend?” Riku remarks as Isa nods to Lea and returns to the bookshelf.

Isa gives Riku the edge of a smile. “I am woefully underpaid either way.” 

“I should have had this conversation with Xion and Naminé and spared myself the back-handed compliments.” Lea scoots back to lean against the wall and scowl. “Yes, he wants to be with me _for right now._ But he wasn’t actually asking me to marry him today.” His heart starts pounding again. “I don’t know if he’d say yes.” 

“Well,” Isa places a few books, straightens a few others, and turns back around, “how do you know you even want to marry him, then?”  
  
“Because I _love_ him,” Lea answers fiercely, “and I want him to know he can count on that for the rest of our lives and…” his memory tugs him back to a ring of fire and dual keyblades nearing his throat, “and our next ones after that.”

“Why? What do you love about him?” Isa prompts, hoping giving voice to it will be some form of reassurance, and then catching himself, “And do not tell me another word about how good he is in bed,” Lea imagines Isa’s eyes flashing gold as they narrow, though they stay blessedly blue, “I will end you.” 

Lea smothers abrupt laughter with the back of his hand. “I’m just giving credit where credit’s due, and my boyfriend is a small sex god—” 

Isa groans and lifts a hand to his forehead like he’s feeling faint. 

“But fine,” Lea continues, “well. I love that he gives a shit. He gives a shit about other people. He goes with me to visit the local orphanage every Wednesday. Last week, we baked them Christmas cookies, which would be more impressive if you knew how many batches we went through before we had an unburnt one. He and Xion volunteer at the animal shelter every weekend. He is forever running late because he’s doing somebody a favor. 

“He has this passion for life. He always has. I need that. I want that. Like, he has to know how everything works and why. Every time he hears about a new holiday thing, he has to do it. We’ve been ice skating and caroling, and next week we’re going to a fucking ballet? I don’t even know what that is. He’s jaded, there’s some attitude, but he doesn’t take anything for granted, you know? 

“But at the same time, he doesn’t give a shit any more about meeting anyone’s expectations. He does things on his terms. And I’m not just talking about a little pierced up punk walking around in a black snowflake sweater wrapped with real Christmas lights. Like, he’s never got invited to a party and not invited me along, whether the host knew about me or not. He doesn’t care if people don’t approve. You should have seen him pour a Solo cup full of nog in Seifer’s face the time he called me a slut after I—”

Lea cuts himself off. They aren’t as invested in this story as he is if their matching stoic frowns are anything to go by. 

He swishes his hand. “I’m getting off topic.”

Books taken care of, Isa steps forward and crouches down to set his hands on Lea’s shoulders. Lea might have gotten a little carried away, but Isa finds his chest warming at his oldest friend’s exuberance. “Lea. You two are loving, passionate, committed… Why don’t you think he’d say yes?” 

Lea stares into Isa’s familiar eyes. He may be the only person he trusts to fully understand what he’s been through losing his heart and getting it back and all the dark, burning missteps in between. “I don’t know if he won’t say yes, I’m just not sure if he should.” He rubs at his cheek where one of his tattoos used to be. “I’m a shitty person, Isa. I wanted my heart back and I didn’t care who I had to step on, what I had to do to get it. I thrived on the chaos and violence. There were moments I wanted to burn worlds. I’ve… _We_ killed people, or got people killed, and just because they’re fine now doesn’t make it alright. And Roxas knows. He knows everything. He’s forgiven me for the things I’ve done, he says he understands, but doesn’t he deserve _better?”_

“Lea,” Isa’s thumb runs under Lea’s other eye, “you’re not a Nobody anymore. You have a heart. You wouldn’t hurt anyone unless it were for a good reason. Roxas knows that too. He sees the best parts of you. He sees kindnesses you overlook.”

“Yeah, but I only changed for him,” Lea argues sharply, “I’m not actually a decent human being. I still get pissed. I can be kind of an asshole.” Lea gestures broadly past Isa. “I still have the urge to punch Riku in the face every time I see him for convincing Roxas to go back to Sora instead of staying with me, and that was years ago. I saved Sora because it was the only way to save Roxas. I only freed Naminé because I knew I could get away with it. I’m a selfish bastard and I always have been.”

Riku’s bright, sudden laughter startles them. Isa sits back beside Lea, the two friends whirling to see how he’s taking Lea’s confession, but he’s smiling. “You think I don’t still get the urge to punch you in the face every now and then? Lea, being a good person has nothing to do with being perfect."

“Oh?” Lea’s face stretches in exaggerated mock-patience. “Do tell.”

“It’s about growing, trying to be better, and you have. Maybe more than anyone. It’s about effort and self-control. You get angry and you want to lash out,” Riku summons his keyblade into his hands, raises it like he’s going to strike, and then lets it evaporate, “but you’ve got a handle on the darkness inside of you and you _don’t._ Everyone’s motivation for doing the right thing is different.” His hand goes to the necklace at his throat. “Sora’s light is friendship. My light is Sora. Your light…”

“My light is Roxas.”

Lea’s heartbeat slows but his chest still feels impossibly warm. Something about these words coming from Riku of all people gives them weight. Riku who took control of his own Darkness. Riku who had won the adoration of two of the purest hearts Lea has ever known. Riku who doesn’t sugarcoat, who doesn’t even _like_ Lea that much… From Riku it means something. 

Isa smiles, slipping his hand into his coat pocket and retrieving a little black box Lea had given him for safe keeping. “It sounds to me like you’re giving him your heart for the right reason this time, Lea.”  
  
Lea accepts the box, his eyes heating up again, his smile broad, “Thanks, Isa.”  
  
“God, finally.” Riku squeezes the arm rests, and leans forward, “Can I go now? It’s freezing in here.” He exhales and his breath frosts in emphasis.

“Look,” Lea clutches the box to his chest, “Isa’s a straight shooter, but he’s also my best friend and notoriously biased. That’s why I asked him to invite you. I’ve noticed you’re pretty good with brutal honesty.” Lea stares up at Riku and laces his fingers behind his neck. “So, what do you think?”

“You’re asking me if I think you’re ready to propose?” Riku repeats, brows going up. 

Lea’s throat feels like it’s burning at the sudden skepticism. 

“No,” Riku says flatly, not kind or unkind, just matter-of-fact. “I don’t really think you are.”  
  
“Okay.” Lea’s eyes narrow, catlike, though Riku doesn’t react. “Guess I did say brutal. Hit me. Why not?”  
  
“How would you feel if I told you Roxas wanted to propose to you but decided not to because he thinks you’re so much cooler and smarter and more mature and more mysterious and…” Riku waves his glove in a circle. “Stop me any time; I don’t have more adjectives.” 

“If he did, I don’t think you’d be the first person he’d tell about it,” Lea bites back, losing some of his patience. Riku had just given him that whole good person speech, hadn’t he? _What in Hades?_

“Lea, be serious,” Isa scolds, glancing up from wrapping Lea’s abandoned cookie in a napkin and tossing it in a nearby bin. “You invited the man here.”

“Yeah, but that’s ridiculous. Roxas doesn’t think I’m too good for _him._ He knows I would say yes.” 

Riku shuts his eyes and shakes his head. “What I’m getting at is that you’re sitting around trying to make Roxas’ decision for him, trying to decide if you’re his light, like he’s yours—if he thinks you’re worthy. But it’s not your choice to make. It’s Roxas’. You love him. You have to love him enough to give him the chance to make the choice.” Riku stands and crouches in front of Lea, one hand lifting to the small silver crown necklace around his own neck, and the other settling over Lea’s heart which seems to be skipping beats at this point. “You have to love him enough to accept that choice, whatever it is. If you ask me, you’re still being selfish. You need to trust him. When you think you can do that, then you’ll be ready to propose.”

“Huh. Guess you’ve got a point.” Lea feels like his blood’s gone to ice and his breath frosted in his throat. It’s like Roxas’ feelings are pouring from Riku’s throat. “Roxas would hate everything about this conversation.”  
  
“Well,” Isa taps Lea’s hand over the box, “maybe not everything.” 

Lea presses his hand over Isa’s, squeezes, and releases it, nodding firmly because he doesn’t trust his voice to go any further. 

“So,” Riku continues, as if he hadn’t just emotionally stuck his hand in Lea’s chest and twisted, snapping some cords, “if the two of you,” he gestures between Isa and Lea, “are going to keep at this for another hour, can I have one of those?” He jerks his thumb toward the tin of cookies. 

Isa lifts it up to him. “Actually, I think we’ve about finished. Lea?”

Riku takes a skinny chocolate dipped shortbread and hums. “Glad to hear it.”

Lea manages to clear his throat. “Thanks, Riku. Thank you, Isa.” He nods to each of them, the velvet of the box scorching against his palm. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.” 

Isa’s not letting him off that easily. He leans back, arms crossing, “So, what are you going to do now, then?”  
  
“Ah,” Lea turns the box over in his hands, pops it open. The ring is a thick silver X, curved until the serifs kiss, that would stretch from knuckle to knuckle. “Guess I’m going to apologize to Roxas for freaking out about the mistletoe. Try to explain if I can, and then I’m going to invite him home for Christmas.” His eyes lift to Isa, firm determination replacing doubt. “No more hesitating. No more fear. Just taking out my heart and handing it over.” He snaps the box shut again. 

Isa takes crumpled mistletoe from his pocket and sets it on top of the box. “You’d best do it right, then.” 

Lea runs his thumb over the rumpled leaf to smooth it. “I’ll try not to burn the whole damn tree down.” 

Riku stands, cookie in his mouth and glances between them, brows furrowed, “Yeah,” he mumbles around it, patting Lea’s shoulder, “best of luck to you, man.” Riku casts a portal of light in front of the tower door. 

“Of course...” Isa nods, fishing out his phone and tapping at the screen, but side-eying Lea, “now that you’re proposing as well, I am going to expect you to take a more active role in the event preparations back on Radiant Garden…”  
  
Lea rolls his eyes. “Couldn’t even wait five minutes before giving me an assignment. You’re killing me, Saïx…” 

Riku smirks, as he steps up to the corridor. “Maybe Lea’s the one who’s underpaid,” he muses before stepping through. 

Isa rises as well kissing his fingertips and waving them, yet remaining near entirely straight-faced, “I’ll be in touch.”

Lea salutes him as he steps through and disappears into a corridor blinding as the sun. Before he pockets the mistletoe and the ring box, he lifts them to his lips.


	6. I'm Still Here

Roxas did not go sledding. That much becomes quite obvious when Lea descends the tower stairs and makes his way into the living room to find the couch has been overtaken by a technicolored mass of blankets approximately the size and girth of a Heartless Flan. The wrappings burrito one lean, skinny blond, staring into the fire and nursing a mug of cocoa that has long since stopped steaming. He peers up with a dazed expression as Lea crosses the room and makes a small, surprised peep.

Lea pauses behind the couch, resting his arms across the top and gazing down at his glum looking boyfriend, who has not yet bothered to so much as smooth down his mussed hair. Lea reaches out and runs his fingers through the golden fluff, leaving different tufts sticking up. “Thought you’d be long gone by now, honey bunny.” Relief bathes every inch of him like stepping into warm, direct sunlight. 

“I couldn’t.” Roxas lifts his chin to look back. His eyes are a little puffy. He shrugs a shoulder, and it seems to take a lot of effort. “I was worried about my big, dumb boyfriend, so I told Nami, Xion, and the gang to go sledding without me.” 

Lea hums and reaches over the back of the couch, arms wrapping Roxas’ neck. Roxas rests his head back against the cushion, neck stretching vulnerably. Lea’s caught by a sudden direct urge to unwrap every last inch of him. He touches the rim of Roxas’ mug and it begins gently steaming again. “Your boyfriend sounds like a jerk,” Lea drawls, leaning in to kiss the side of Roxas’ throat. His words turn soft, careful, “Think he might owe you an apology.”

Roxas hugs Lea’s warm hand in his, leaning into the next few kisses, his eyes shutting, “I’d be okay with a, ah,” his voice skips like a record at the lightest nudge of teeth, “ _verbal_ explanation.”

Lea chuckles into his skin and then leans back a bit, lifting Roxas’ hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it instead. Roxas sips gingerly at the hot cocoa as Lea walks around the couch, the mass of blankets shifting to offer him a cushion. Lea leans back into the loveseat and opens his mouth but finds it momentarily dry. He’d had an explanation ready. He thought he had. He must have. 

Roxas’ eyes on him, cool, familiar, hopeful, ease the tension seizing at his muscles, and Lea feels himself relax, his jaw loosening.   
  
“Mistletoe,” he grasps tentatively. _It’s a place to start anyway._ “It means something else back on Radiant Garden. Seeing it here with you, it just threw me for a loop, took me way, _way_ back, and I just.” He can’t tell Roxas he thought he was proposing. Roxas didn’t deserve that kind of pressure or guilt, but Lea has to tell him something. Lea reaches back to rub his neck and gives a self-deprecating smile, “I guess I’m just a little homesick.”  
  
“Hm.” Roxas is quiet for a long moment, reclining back onto Lea’s chest and bringing all nine thousand of his blankets with him. “That’s what Isa said too.” He peers up at Lea, lips thinning, brows up, but it’s his voice that sounds thin and sad, “I thought you liked Twilight Town.”

“I love being in Twilight Town with you, Roxas.” His eyes hold only sincerity. “You know that.” Lea leans in until their noses touch, and Roxas grins. “I’d be with you in Hades if that were the only option, but sometimes I miss home. Actually… Isa’s invited us to spend Christmas in Radiant Garden, and I think we should go. It’s going to be the first genuine RG Christmas since the reconstruction efforts started, so it’s going to mean a lot to everyone.” 

Lea can hear himself starting to light up. “I can show you where we grew up, tell you about all our traditions.” He can picture himself leading Roxas down side streets as the snowfalls, showing him the new and old market stalls, drinking hot cider in the town square… “We can even spend some time with the old Organization crew. I think you’d really—”

“Stop.” Roxas presses a finger to Lea’s lips and leans back, head shaking. “Please stop, Axel. Radiant Garden always makes you sad. And we already promised we’d go to Destiny Island for Kairi’s party this Christmas. We promised Kairi’s _Grandma.”_

“Yeah, but this is going to be different. I’m sure she’ll under—mmph.” 

Scoffing at Lea’s inability to shut it for a minute, two of Roxas’ fingers slip into Lea’s mouth and press down on his tongue to silence him.

Lea makes a faint noise of irritation, but his pupils get bigger and his breath is hot and wet against Roxas’ skin.

“Remember how much fun we had at the party in Disney Castle last year?” Roxas reminds him. “The snowball fight with Sora and Riku? Trying seven different Christmas ice cream flavors with Ven and Aqua? That room we stayed in with the ridiculously low ceiling and short bed and the look on King Mickey’s face when we asked if we could have two beds to push together or at least one triple the size and he told us no… Oh gods, what did he say? Hanky panky…?” 

Roxas’ fingers stroke at Lea’s tongue and his tongue laps at them as they withdraw.

Roxas laughs but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You said it was the best Christmas you’d ever had.” 

Lea smiles wryly at the memory, shifting back slightly below Roxas in attempt to keep the course of the conversation above board. “It was, Roxas, but…” 

Roxas sighs and squirms out of his lap, onto his knees a cushion over. “You can go visit Radiant Garden any _other_ day of the year—” Roxas gestures broadly with one hand while he wipes the other on one of the blankets.

“Wouldn’t be the same,” Lea insists, his hands settling on Roxas’ biceps, bringing his arms down. “Christmas on Radiant Garden is the most magical day of the year. Please, Roxas, I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important to me. Isa’s planning a whole thing and it’s going to be so beautiful. I know you’ll love it, and, I don’t want to spoil everything by saying too much, but it will mean so much to us. Give it a chance.”  
  
Roxas pulls himself backward, out of Lea’s reach into the cushion behind him, eyes lifting skyward, blankets billowing and then settling around him. “Gods, please,” his voice is level and flat, tired, “leave Isa out of this for two seconds.” His gaze alone is an accusation. “Please.”  
  
Lea’s jaw tenses. “That’s not fair.” The ice in his eyes is enough to make Roxas draw the blankets tighter around himself. If Roxas doesn’t understand his history with Isa, it’s because of moments like these where he won’t let him explain. “I mean, c’mon,” Lea’s arm gestures broadly, to the mansion around them, “we _live_ with Xion.”

Roxas gestures back with his mug, liquid sloshing, “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

Lea loves Xion. What they lack in common ground they make up for in smiles and goodwill, but she’s always been Roxas’ friend first and foremost. Lea winces, takes a breath, and decides to soften his approach. _Maybe Roxas is going to need more details. Fuck surprises..._ “Just let me tell you a little about Christmas in Radiant Garden, and I think you’ll _understand_ what Isa and I are trying to…”  
  
Roxas shakes his head again, pressing a hand to Lea’s chest when he tries to move in. “I don’t want to hear another word about it, okay? I’m not breaking my promise to Sora and Riku and Kairi and Kairi’s Grandma because _Isa_ thinks the worlds revolve around him, and we should all stop what we’re doing and fall at his feet.” The blankets rustle like Roxas is trying to stand. 

“Roxas,” Lea’s hand rises to cup his cheek, and Roxas settles, “it’s not like that, I swear.”

Roxas leans into his touch like a cat but shuts his eyes as if Lea’s are too hard to look at if he wants to maintain his resolve. “You didn’t want any of this until _he_ brought it up,” Roxas insists.

Lea’s head fills with memories of frigid air, gusts of wind, red leaves, and then the overwhelming smell of ash. “Maybe I just didn’t know how to tell you.” Lea kisses another objection from Roxas’ lips and then hates himself a little for being the guy who does that as Roxas pouts up at him, forehead lined with concern. 

“Please,” Lea says softly, “Just… think it over, okay?”

Roxas glances to the fireplace as sparks snap. The smell of the cinnamon sticks Xion mixed with the tinder rises up with the smoke. “Axel, seriously…”

Lea’s thumb strokes Roxas’ cheek one more time and then he raises his palms in surrender. “I won’t keep bothering you about it, scout’s honor. I just want you to give it some thought. I want to share my life with you, okay? My whole life. Present and past and…” He smiles weak and hopeful, “and all that jazz.” 

Roxas almost smiles himself at the lame metaphor and his resolve crumbles shamelessly when Lea succeeds in making eye contact again. “Okay, okay, okay. I’ll think about it, alright?” His arms cross over his chest, staring off to the fire once more and huffing adorably.

Lea quickly pecks his cheek before Roxas can push him off. “That’s all I’m asking for, baby.”

Roxas scowls but melts into the strong arms that encircle his waist and lift him back up onto Lea’s thighs. 

“We should finish decorating the windows before Xion and Naminé get back,” Roxas murmurs, even as Lea begins tracing his jaw with deliberately slow, hot yet damp kisses and Roxas scoots forward, removing the space between their hips. 

“Or...” Lea purrs, the orange glow of the firelight glinting in his green eyes, “we could skip to the part where I warm you up while we have the place all to ourselves.” 

Roxas kisses Lea’s left cheek. “Mission first.” Roxas kisses Lea’s mouth. “Icing on the cake after.” Roxas’ free hand kneads Lea’s firm pec through his coat. “You taught me that.”

“Ugh. Damn my killer work ethic.” Lea laughs airily, one of his hands whisking Roxas’ mug away and onto the coffee table, and the other peeling away blankets to slip beneath his stolen, oversized sweater, still draping Roxas. His fingers slide up the bottom of his spine. Lea’s tongue darts out and licks the faint taste of chocolate from Roxas’ lip. 

Roxas shivers despite the many blankets still hanging from his shoulders. “Maybe we could make an exception,” he allows, toying at Lea’s coat zipper. Lea grins and then catches Roxas’ lips again more insistently. 

Needless to say, the garland is not hung by the time Xion and Naminé return home. 


	7. Ring in the Season

True to his word, Lea doesn’t harangue Roxas with daily requests to join him for Christmas in Radiant Garden despite his near constant desire to. He tries to keep in mind what Riku said about trusting Roxas’ choices, and that Roxas had promised to think about it. He does fit more frequent trips to Radiant Garden into his schedule, and is promptly put to work for however many hours he can spare. 

Lea also drops hints, and doesn’t put particular effort into keeping them subtle. Sometimes he tells Roxas what he’s been up to. Others he asks him his preferences—flowers: _Mm,_ _I don’t fucking know. Blue ones?_ , jewelry: pulling at the chain around his neck, _Silver, I guess,_ cookies: _Anything chocolate and peanut butter_. A few times he even invites Roxas to go with him to volunteer, but Roxas seems to always have other seasonal obligations. Isa keeps Lea and the entire Reconstruction Committee plenty busy preparing for holiday. Lea hangs fairy lights and lanterns, assembles Christmas market booths, picks flowers and berries to be braided into flower crowns, and gives advice on everything from cookie tastes to ceremonial music selections. 

A few nights before Christmas, he joins a cluster of former Organization members in clearing leaves and decorating the Tree of Bound Souls. Though its trunk is newly unmarked, it is otherwise every inch as he remembers as a child, and stepping into the clearing where it sits, Lea stands breathless for a long moment staring up at it, its proud branches stretching skyward as if in worship of the universe, stark ivory against a cloudless black sky, until someone claps him firmly on the back and the present takes hold once again. 

Lea finds Dilan standing beside him. “Just as beautiful as I remember it,” Dilan says. 

Lea nods, attention pulled back up, caught on a few lingering crimson leaves. After all these years, they still remind him of hearts and that matters more now. “I’ve promised Isa I’ll try not to burn it down before you and Ael get to carve your names into it.” 

Dilan glances over to where his husband is helping Isa unload a cart of folding ladders and stools, and laughs, a hearty rumble. “We appreciate your noble restraint.” He shifts his gaze back to Lea, who laughs himself. “Perhaps,” Dilan arches his sharp, thick brows, “this year mistletoe, and next year, you and your Roxas might do the same?”

“ _Perhaps_ …” Lea smiles, soft and a shade hopeful, and Dilan claps him on the back again as Isa approaches to tease them for slacking off already. 

Lea spends the rest of his free time back in Twilight Town. Eager to put any tension that has settled between them aside, Roxas and Lea are more determined than ever to enjoy the delights of the Christmas season with each other and with their friends. They model gingerbread houses with Xion at Remy’s Bistro and make themselves a little sick from the sheer amount of frosting they consume. 

Hayner and Seifer are all too happy to reschedule sledding, although this time they go downhill using trays nicked from the university cafeteria. The afternoon is filled with laughter, the smell of damp woolen gloves, and bruises which would have been sprains if not for a few hastily muttered _Curas._ They attend a freezing screening of a Christmas short film Pence directed in his media course, projected on a large screen not far from the center of town and featuring an awe-inspiring number of zombies for a seasonal film. 

Olette is in the chorus of a performance of _The Nutcracker,_ and while neither Lea nor Roxas is familiar with the ballet, they go anyway and bring her an obscenely large bouquet of poinsettias. Roxas says the flowers are the only reason Olette forgives them for nearly getting themselves kicked out of the theater three times, but they really couldn’t help but start cackling, as every time the dreaded Mouse King appeared on stage, one of them would whisper, “Now presenting, his Royal Majesty, King Mickey.” 

Lea soon learns that gifts are an essential part of Christmas in Twilight Town. He and Roxas attempt to take at least one university course together a semester, and sometimes quite a few more than that. Though their initial interest in signing up for Glassblowing and Spinning began as a dirty joke, it quickly became one of the highlights of their week. With a little help from his innate magical abilities, Lea became something of a class prodigy, while Roxas found more modest success. Together they decided to craft glass figurines to give to their closest friends for Christmas. Between teasing and putting out fairly minor fires, they craft a dog for Xion, a dove for Naminé, a wolf for Isa, and the list goes on… 

Though Lea has promised himself not to push too hard on convincing Roxas to join him in Radiant Garden, his desire to propose grows stronger with every passing day, his heart aching with every fleeting thought of it. He doesn’t think Xion would be able to keep such a big secret from Roxas, so he finds himself confessing the whole ordeal to Kairi over the phone. 

Kairi begins texting him advice and support on the regular, and it’s to Kairi that he sends the snapshot of Roxas’ Christmas gift: a black velvet ring box, tied with a sea-salt-ice-cream-blue ribbon and garnished with a sprig of mistletoe and the sun-worn popsicle stick reading ‘WINNER’ that Roxas had once left Lea to remember him by and typically sat in a place of honor on his bedside table. Kairi snaps Lea back a photo of herself clutching at her heart like she’s about to cry adorned with multiple teary-eyed emojis.

It’s two days before Christmas, the air full of a strange gray mist and off-and-on-again half-rain, half-sleet, when Lea realizes Roxas has probably not changed his mind about accompanying him to Radiant Garden. Lea’s with Naminé and they’re walking through town, continuing their quest to try hot cocoa from every available venue to determine which is the best. (Oddly enough, the sea salt ice cream place maintains the lead with its sea salt caramel drizzle.) They’ve stopped to admire the elaborate Christmas mural Naminé had painted in the window of the local tattoo parlor where she works part-time. Black snowflakes dance behind frolicking ice monsters that seem to have walked straight out of Arendelle. 

Lea is batting at the pompom on her hat and telling her about the flower crowns they wear in Radiant Garden during the Christmas ceremony, the mistletoe that replaces them once a proposal has taken place. She smiles at him, but it’s the sad kind, blue eyes silver in the dim light, and asks if maybe she can go to keep him company at Isa’s engagement instead.

_Instead._

Roxas has occasionally mentioned Kairi’s Grandma’s party. _Who else will be there (if not us)? What kind of dessert should we bring? What kind of alcohol do you put in eggnog and how much of it?_ But not so frequently that he’d entirely convinced Lea he’d made up his mind to go. 

_Instead._

Clearly Naminé knows something he doesn’t. He agrees to her company, but holds out hope Roxas will change his mind yet. 

By the time their chilly but amiable walk home through the overcast gloom and the dazzling white shop lights has reached its end, Lea has determined that it’s time to ask Roxas to join him for Christmas in Radiant Garden one more time and fight off any further uncertainty. Kairi has been hinting at such for several days now, after all, and now Naminé too, and he’d rather know before Christmas day itself anyway.

It’s just a matter of biting the bullet. 

Xion, Pence, and Olette, who are sprawled on the living room floor cast in the cozy light of the blazing hearth, attempting to learn to knit mittens from an online video tutorial, are not sure where Roxas is. Pluto’s ears lift in response to Lea’s inquiries, however, and he rises up from Xion’s belly rubs and barks once. Lea shrugs and follows the pooch out of the room and through a few hallways. 

He hears Roxas before he sees him. Paper swishes, tape rips. There’s grumbling and muttering for a moment before he returns to singing along with Hilary Duff’s “Santa on the Radio.” 

Pluto pauses outside the door to Xion’s room where the sounds are coming from, yips, swishes his thin black tail, and turns to stare at Lea expectantly, ears lifting again. 

Lea chuckles and salutes the freakishly intuitive dog. “Thanks, pal.” 

Pluto yips again and bounds into the room, Lea stepping up hesitantly behind him. As he pushes the door open further, he can hear Roxas laughing and chastising as Pluto bounds his way across the gift wrap.

“Hey, buddy,” Lea raps on the door and forces himself a step inside. “Okay if I come in?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah,” Roxas lowers the volume of his Gummiphone as “Mr. Brightside” comes on, and rearranges the wrapped and unwrapped parcels around him, shifting a package of tissue paper aside to make room on the floor beside him. “Yours is the first one I did.” He indicates a pile of finished packages wrapped in black paper decorated with golden marker stars and tied up in twine. 

Lea removes his coat and sets it on Xion’s desk chair before seating himself beside Roxas, careful of the paper. Pluto is less careful, plopping himself on a roll beside Lea and resting his head in Lea’s lap with a contented snuff. 

“You didn’t have to get me anything, baby.” Lea’s a little overwhelmed with the whole operation. He spreads an arm across Roxas’ shoulders and squeezes as Roxas scoots in to lean against his chest. It’s getting late and he seems about ready to nod off against his warm, solid chest. “All I need is—” 

“I already told you.” Roxas smiles wryly, brows lifting as he elbows Lea affectionately in the stomach. “I am not doing a festive strip tease.” He lifts Lea’s hand from where it rests on his leg and laces their fingers together. 

“But I’ve been so—”

“I don’t care how _nice_ you think you’ve been this year.”  
  
Lea chuckles, gives his hand a squeeze. “Spoil sport.”

“I’m still reluctant to eat _candy canes_ in public,” Roxas carries on, brows bouncing, leaning to meet Lea’s eye. His lip curves, pupils widening like a cat’s, as his voice dips lower, “after what you were whispering in my ear last time.” 

Lea trails his fingers down Roxas’ cheek, freckled with glitter, his voice softening as well, “I think I apologized for that.” 

Roxas shifts into his touch, his eyes fluttering shut. “I didn’t ask you to apologize.”

“That’s good,” Lea’s fingers come away with some sparkles of their own, which has him thinking dimly of pixie dust, of trusting Roxas enough to fucking fly, his grin flashing, “because I didn’t mean it.” Their intertwined hands rest on Roxas’ thigh and Lea’s thumb strokes its way up the seam of his jeans. His thoughts shift to the incident in question, Roxas’ cheeks hollowed, lips glossy, sticky-sweet, “I could watch you lick that candy cane all day long…” 

“Now I know why you’re always buying me ice cream.” 

“I didn’t think that was a _secret.”_

Roxas opens his eyes and tries to smirk but instead lets out an airy little breath and tugs Lea’s hand back down toward his knee. “I’m not sure either of us are making the nice list at this rate…” he offers in an ever-so-slightly strained voice. 

“Hm…” Lea brings their lips together in a brief, gentle kiss that leaves Roxas wanting a dozen more. “We’ll just have to make each other feel nice.” 

Roxas’ mouth dips open in objection, his free hand gesturing to Xion’s pastel blue and black decor. 

Pluto makes a snuffling sound out of his nose as if in agreement. 

Lea gives his head a little shake and swishes away Roxas’ concerns with his fingertips. “Later, then.”

“Naughty. List.”

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway,” his lips catch Roxas once more on the cheek, “I was _going_ to say, you don’t need to get me anything because _you’re_ all I need, Roxas. You and me. Every world.” He lifts their hands and kisses the back of Roxas’. “Every life time.”

“Always and forever,” Roxas agrees softly, shifting away and leaning toward the pile of wrapped gifts, tugging one forward. “But I still wanted to get you something special.” 

Lea folds both of his hands around Roxas’ carefully, both too aware of each other’s silence as Roxas’ phone quiets between songs. 

“I want to do something special for you, too,” Lea squeezes his hands, meets blue eyes, darting nervously between their hands and Lea’s eyes. “That’s one of the reasons I’ve been working so hard on Christmas in Radiant Garden. I want to make it something worth sharing it with you. Our flowers, our lights, our music, our Christmas trees. It’s a fuckin’ winter wonderland. I swear, it’s not the place you remember.” 

“Axel…” Roxas’ voice carries a weary little whine; he reaches out to silence his phone completely as “Mr. Brightside” attempts to play itself again. It’s an _I don’t want to fight_ kind of voice. 

“But you still don’t want to go, huh?” Lea asks, surprising himself because he doesn’t feel angry, outraged, affronted, just sad. Disappointed. He can’t figure out how his heart decides such arbitrary things. Lea tilts his head toward Roxas’ work. “Our gifts, you’re going to give them out at Kairi’s Grandma’s party.” This adds a new layer of conflict to the whirling drain in his head.

Roxas nods, lips pursed. “Yeah. I told you. I’m done jumping when Isa says ‘how high.’ It means a lot to you, I guess. Based on how you’ve been spending half your time, and I know you think you’re doing it for us, but I… Radiant Garden stresses me out. All those people I only ever knew as heartless and cruel, all those memories that came before I even existed.” His fists have clenched around his phone and Lea’s hand, his eyes have shifted away, and when they return to Lea’s his whole face is taut, strained, pained, “I don’t want to spend Christmas there, Axel. Not a minute of it.”

The explanation stings, but, for once, Lea tries to understand—tries to make himself believe—that it’s not really about _him._ He thinks that if it weren’t for his promise to Isa, he’d consider going with Roxas to Destiny Island.

Lea feels a pricking, hot itch at his eyes and drops Roxas’ hands in favor of lifting him onto his lap and squeezing the hell out of his chest until Roxas half-grunt-half-laughs. “What are you…?”

He wishes he could make Roxas see Radiant Garden the way he sees it, especially lately. He thinks Christmas Day might do that. And he wants more than anything to give Roxas his ring there, under the trees and the stars and the lights with the people who have known him his whole life and forgiven him his sins. 

“How do I change your mind?” Lea whispers into Roxas’ hair, kissing it, smelling vanilla and citrus.

“You don’t. We’ll just,” Roxas exhales, shrugs his shoulders helplessly, “spend Christmas apart this year, okay?” He hangs his hands on Lea’s arm secure across his chest, above where his heartbeat rests. “It’s not the end of the world.”

 _It’s just not the beginning of a new one, either,_ Lea thinks wryly, trying to keep the feeling of his twisting, icy guts off his face. “Yeah, okay, Rox.” He kisses the back of his neck. “If you’ve made up your mind.” 

If Roxas feels this strongly about it, he’s just going to have to figure out another way. If Roxas doesn’t want the fancy Radiant Garden proposal, maybe Lea can make due with crumpled up holly. And if that doesn’t work, he’ll just have to teach himself to be patient. He’s always known Roxas is worth waiting for. 

* *

The light outside the window is still violet when Lea’s Gummiphone alarm goes off. Roxas and Lea are not morning people, but it’s Christmas, and Xion had very sweetly all but demanded they rise, make themselves presentable, and help her prepare family breakfast in an hour sharp. 

“Five more minutes…” Lea mumbles and ignores the insatiable beeping until Roxas groans and, when his prodding and nudging prove useless, climbs on top of him to reach over and turn it off. Lea’s strong arms lock around Roxas’ waist as Roxas silences the Gummiphone, pinning his lithe, muscled body to his so he won’t crawl back to his side of the bed. He pulls the blanket up higher, and massages the goosebumps from Roxas’ chilled limbs with one warmed palm. 

“Axel…” Roxas objects with a sleepy giggle, setting his face to Lea’s chest, as Lea concludes his massage with a too hot palm to the base of his spine that makes Roxas shiver all over and press his whole body more snugly into Lea’s. Lea’s already snoring softly again, and Roxas shuts his eyes and drifts off himself. Five more minutes sounds alright to him. 

Twenty minutes later, Lea is standing in his boxers at the mirror buttoning a cream-colored dress shirt up to his throat, when Roxas touches him lightly on the shoulder blade. 

He turns to see his boyfriend in a short-sleeved, black, flower print button down, open over baggy khaki shorts and a white ribbed tank that Xion had impulse-bought him with black print reading “Oh deer,” decorated with reindeer antlers and snowflakes. Roxas’ shades are perched on his forehead and short of a necklace of flowers, he looks ready for an island Christmas.  
  
“Yes, deer?” Lea teases, ignoring the pained twinge in his chest and turning fully, hand landing on Roxas’ hip, as he notes the parcel in Roxas’ hand, lifting between them. 

“Open it.” Roxas holds the gift a little closer, smiling though his wide eyes show a trace of anxiety. 

Lea accepts it gingerly, grins. “I’m not even dressed yet. Or is that the point?” 

Roxas rolls his eyes and gives Lea’s arm a playful little shove. “You’re close enough. Go on…” 

Lea lifts his hand from Roxas’ hip to rub the back of his neck, eyes scanning Roxas’ carefully. “Yours isn’t ready yet,” he lies. The wrapped box with the ring and the mistletoe are cramped into a deep pocket of his long suit jacket, a black number with whirling metallic gold accents along the neck and sleeves that Isa helped him select in a distant San Fransokyo shop for the special occasion. 

Roxas snaps a finger against the waistband of Lea’s candy-striped boxer shorts. “I thought you said you were giving me mind-blowing sex for Christmas. Going to make me see stars, going to make me pray—” 

“Yeah, well, besides that, obviously.” Lea gives Roxas a wink, hand settling back at his waist and squeezing, as he tears at the black paper of Roxas’ gift, tearing bits of gold star sky apart. “You can have that whenever you want. I—” Lea quiets, lifting the lid from the box and shifting rustling tissue. He carefully lifts a large silver chain from which hangs a translucent, pink, crystalline glass heart and a small sea salt popsicle each about the length of his thumb. They catch the nearby lamplight and seem to glow from within. His heart pounds. “Gods. Roxas,” Lea’s voice gets quiet, green eyes entranced, “did you make this for me?”

It’s the single most beautiful thing he’s seen Roxas create in the course of their glass making experience, but more than that, he knows how much a heart means to someone who hasn’t always had one… 

“Mhm,” Roxas nods proudly, wrapping his strong, cool, stubby fingers around Lea’s and showing him the clasp, “it’s a keychain for your keyblade. Merlin helped me enchant it. It’s damn near indestructible. You’ve always used the same one, and I know Xemnas damaged it a bit way back when, and so I just thought…” Roxas shrugs, grinning at the genuinely awed and enamored expression on Lea’s usually sharply composed face. “Well…? Give it a try.” 

Lea nods and summons Flame Liberator which fills their bedroom with a soft golden light and the scent and heat of campfire smoke. Spinning the chakram handle, he carefully hooks the chain of Roxas’ heart beside the chakram keychain and holds the keyblade out at arm’s length as lights envelop it: white, black, silver, gold…

Roxas gasps.

The keyblade that remains resembles Roxas’ Oathkeeper and Oblivion forged together, one set of teeth on each side, and it burns from hilt to tip with a fire that shifts as it rises from hazy gold to soft orange to cotton candy pink to sunset red. 

“Sanctuary,” Lea breathes as he slices the air and faint blue salty smelling sparks rise up. He’d always thought the pretentious names came from the keyblade wielders, but for the second time, the name of his weapon whispers into his ear.

It’s fitting. The clock tower was their safe haven against Xemnas’ deadly concrete jungle. The place he took Roxas, originally to protect him for an extra hour a day, and then because he couldn’t do without the soft, relaxed look on his face, the halo of the sun in his hair. Somewhere along the line Roxas became his sanctuary instead.

“Sanctuary,” Roxas echoes. He ghosts his fingers along the spine of the key, the flames retracting, protecting his skin, until he lifts it, and they flare out once more. Roxas looks up at Lea expectantly. They’ve never seen hearts bind quite like this. 

“Roxas, baby… it’s gorgeous.” Lea dismisses the keyblade startled, as Roxas flings himself forward and presses their lips together, soft and sweet. 

“We’re gorgeous,” Roxas murmurs against his thin, slightly chapped lips. “Together. I… I wanted to give you my heart. I want you to know my heart is with you,” Roxas’ hands press into the smooth silk of Lea’s dress shirt, “wherever you are, even if we’re not together.”

Lea cups Roxas’ face in his long fingers kissing him soundly, and then flicks aside his bangs to capture the blue eyes he never wants to look away from him. 

“I feel the same way.” Lea’s mind floods with images of Radiant Garden, the tree, the ring, talking with Isa and Riku, texts from Kairi, hanging mistletoe berries and knives carving into trees and the overwhelming feeling of magic hanging in the air above the harsh smell of pine and the boisterous harmonies of Christmas carols. They don’t need it. Their hearts are already bound. But he can’t help but want it anyway, to let Roxas taste the euphoria that he just has. 

“That’s why today, I mean…” Lea’s tongue trips, he rubs his thumb over the freckles below Roxas’ eye and wills his own to get less hot, his throat to stop its damn constricting. His feelings are getting too powerful bottling up in his chest and he needs to let himself shatter so they can be free. “You already get it. Roxas, the thing about Christmas in Radiant Garden is that it isn’t about gifts. It’s about being together. It’s about giving your heart to the people you love. It’s a tradition, _our_ tradition, to propose on Christmas Day and…” he kisses Roxas’ forehead, “that’s the reason I have to be there.”  
  
_Propose? What’s he saying?_ Roxas blinks, leans back, “I thought you had to be there for Isa?” 

“Oh, well, yeah.” Lea rubs at the back of his neck, clearly thrown, “I mean, you know he and Terra have been together a long time now…”

Roxas nods, but confusion has begun to cloud his eyes, his jaw going slack. Lea shifts his hands to Roxas’ shoulders, squeezes. 

“Well, Isa’s proposing to Terra. And I’ve promised to be there for him. That’s why I’ve been going there so much. He doesn’t like to admit it, but he wants everything to be perfect for him. That’s why it’s such a big deal. That’s why it would mean so much to us, to me, if you were there, too.” 

Roxas’ brows furrow. “To watch Isa get engaged,” he clarifies flatly, leaning back.

“I mean… Among other things,” Lea’s words drip with implication, he leans back to mirror Roxas and crosses his arms, an eyebrow quirking. “Do you... understand what I’m trying to say?” 

Roxas’ voice takes on an edge, “Most people don’t want their ex around for their engagement.” 

Lea’s hands rise in self-defense. “He’s like a brother to me now. A best friend. Best friend moral support.” 

Roxas’ eyes wander off, to the chair where Lea’s fancy new jacket hangs. “You want to be there as back up in case Terra says no?”

Lea offers a quick, relieved smile, one cheek dimpling, “Basically.” 

_“Axel,”_ Roxas hisses, eyes whipping back up, and it feels like they scratch him where they touch and leave a hot sting behind them. 

Lea scoffs, his own softened expression turning rigid. “Not _romantic_ back up,” he growls, tossing up a hand, “Gods, Roxas. Seriously?” 

_We’ve been broken up longer than you’ve existed. He cheated on me with the man he’s about to propose to. I am not hung up on him. I would do anything for you. I died for you. I’d do it again._

“Did you just say that?”

“No.” As if he can read Lea’s mind, Roxas’ throat clogs with a choked sound, the lines of anger in his face evaporating near as quickly as they came. “I’m sorry. No.” Roxas arms drop, one of his small hands settling on Lea’s cheek and he pulls him down to press a kiss to the side of his lip, “I didn’t mean it. I just don’t understand. What aren’t you telling me?”

“I’m _trying_ to tell you,” Lea insists, waving to his suit jacket, “I want to show you. I…” He considers fetching the ring box now but his head and chest are pounding and the moment feels too raw. “I have a gift for you too. I’ll give it to you after the ceremony tonight.”

He resolves to ask Roxas right back here before they fall asleep if necessary. Or in the living room with Xion, Naminé, and Pluto curled up half-asleep on the couch with bows in their hair and wrapping paper sticking to their sweaters. But he would so much prefer...

Roxas exhales sharply, glaring, “Axel, _please._ I just told you why—”  
  
“Okay, okay.” Lea steps away, lifts his jacket and shakes it out carefully. He thinks of elegant mistletoe berries glowing in the moon, reflecting the snow, and nearly squashed holly berries with browning, holey leaves and a broken stem. They’d seemed the same to him once. 

“It’s not a bribe. No strings.” Lea catches Roxas’ eye and pulls on a sleeve, voice earnest, “It won’t be quite what I planned, but I’ll give it to you at home if you decide not to come. It’ll be special no matter where we are, because it’s me and you.” Lea steps into his dress pants, does them up and then sits backwards on the chair, stretching his hands out to Roxas who steps forward to take them. “Our hearts are connected, right?” 

Roxas nods, reluctantly admiring how sharp and put together Lea looks in the tailored suit with his hair tied back and his makeup fresh and neat. A small pulse of jealousy brings a sour expression to his face. Of course Isa would make Lea get this dressed up for his engagement… but it’s so strange and different than the way Lea dresses up to take Roxas out. So much more formal… 

Lea tries to chase away Roxas’ increasingly dark look by wrapping arms around his neck and pulling him to plant kisses in his hair. Roxas tries to lean his head away, smothering an involuntary laugh and Lea catches the edge of his ear between his teeth. Roxas freezes at the sudden faint pressure, as Lea whispers, “I hope you have a good time. But if you change your mind or the good guy’s party sucks, come find me. I’ll look for you by the fountain. Okay?”

Roxas sighs, nuzzling Lea’s arm with his cheek. “Yeah, alright.” He knows better than to ask the opposite. Isa will have their entire day booked. 

Lea sucks the lobe of Roxas’ ear to hear the faint hitch in his breath and then kisses his cheek beside it. “If I’m not there, the lanterns will light your way.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Roxas shakes his head, gives a dazed little sigh and side-steps the chair to press his whole body into Lea’s side. “Stubborn prick.” He grins. 

Without warning, Lea sweeps Roxas up, sneakers in the air, and carries him downstairs. They have a pleasant, if quiet, morning with Xion and Naminé, Christmas music humming in the background as they eat chocolate chip pancakes drizzled in syrup, sprinkles, and home-made cream and Axel makes cocoa. They exchange gifts with hugs and laughter. 

When it’s time to leave for their respective parties, Roxas gives Lea a lingering hug. “Merry Christmas, Axel. Tell Isa… Tell him, I’m happy for them.” 

Lea catches at his arm, manages with equal gravity, “Tell Kairi I said she should go easy on you. I don’t think she’ll listen, but ya never know, right?” 

“Wait, what?” 

Lea smiles and before Roxas can question it, leans in and steals a kiss, before suavely stepping back and disappearing into a portal of iridescent, pearly white. 


	8. I Won't Say (I'm in Love)

_“Knock, knock,_ ” Lea sings as he raps his knuckles against the sturdy wood of the door to Isa’s room. It’s unusually heavy, its joints rusted and its face carved with vines of ivy. Lea wonders if anything can be heard at all through its thick fibers. “Hey, lover boy,” he raises his voice, smiles. “Merry Christmas! Here to help you prep for the big day.” His knocks sound twice more, “Hello in there! You decent?” 

“Does it matter?” Isa’s voice calls back dryly. Lea’s already pushing open the door. 

“Being polite,” Lea insists, chagrinned, nodding Isa’s way in greeting. To be fair, Isa’s mostly dressed, sitting at a large, elegant, pale, mirrored vanity table and buttoning up a lavender dress shirt. Lea walks in and halts near immediately, as if he’d stepped into the wrong room. “Wow,” he murmurs almost without realizing it. “Shit.” 

“What?” Isa counters, eyes shifting, following Lea’s. 

Back when Isa first joined the restoration committee, one of their first projects had been renovating an old mansion into an inn of sorts, something that the committee members could live in instead of tents until other buildings could be renovated. The mansion was selected as it was in relatively decent shape compared to some of the buildings the Heartless had taken a shine to—in that it was still standing and most of its rooms could be walked through without caving in the ceilings of the rooms below.

Lea and Isa hadn’t known the aristocrats that had once occupied the stately house, of course, being orphans themselves, but that had made it a little easier to swallow. No one could quite stomach the idea of trying to inhabit their former homes, although hand in hand or solo, some of them had visited their ruins and shed their respective steaming tears, muddying the ashes underfoot. 

Likewise, the decor of this manor, once lush and extravagant, had since become musty, charred, and rotting enough that it didn’t make Lea and Isa quite as sick to think of the disparity between it and the crammed room of bunkbeds and simple furnishings they’d grown up in, or the hard, austere Organization labs and quarters that had replaced them. Isa finds that it’s harder to push away dwelling on such things—especially with the pesky pulse humming just under his skin. 

The room Isa has taken up residence in had been spacious and particularly ornate but not at all to his tastes or style. Gaudy jewel-toned patterned carpets draped the floors, animal heads studded the walls with house banners and family portraits cluttered around them. The furniture was sturdy and elegant but had been bathed in dust and painted mismatching shades that dug deeper under Isa’s skin the longer he stared at them. The light fixtures were unnecessarily large and out of date as were the books that lined the bookshelf in the corner, grimy and crumbling with disuse. Lea had once said it looked like the lovechild of the Beast’s castle and Gaston’s favorite tavern. 

Isa’s brows rise, turning and leaning back, arms spread across the vanity table. “You’ve seen it before…”

“Not since you gutted it.” Lea turns on his heel, arms stretching behind his head, whistling and taking in the rest. “The nobles must be rolling in their graves.”  
  
“Ah.” Isa nods, realizing, despite Lea’s regular visits, that his friend doesn’t exactly frequent his bedroom. “Right. Well, it was no easy feat. Terra and I lugged furniture for days. A few things were so ungodly clunky we had to have Aeleus assist us with their relocation. And I nearly called you in to ceremonially burn every one of those hideous tapestries.” Isa laughs lightly and Lea snorts, “but Terra convinced me that would be _wasteful_ and someone else might want them. _”_

Lea’s lips stretch thin and teasing. “And they called _us_ villains.” 

Lea scarcely recognizes the space. Almost all of the decor had been stripped away and little had been replaced. The walls had been painted pale blue with gold accents and still faintly smell of it. The wooden floorboards were white washed and the rugs replaced with simple, fringed black and gold ones which match the single tapestry that remains, a new one, embroidered with the moon and a constellation Lea doesn’t know the name of. Furniture had been stripped and repainted a standard periwinkle gray or replaced with simpler pieces given a similar treatment. 

Terra’s things have begun to trickle in as well. A warm red, green, and brown chest sits against the wall, a grass green stained glass wayfinder hangs in the window, clothes sit neatly folded on the bed, warm clay tones. Terra’s unfamiliar earthy musk mingles in the air with the soft, unmistakable lavender scent that Isa carries. A dog bed and bowls lie in a cozy, sunlit corner. It brings Lea a sense of peace to know that vacating his own position as a constant at Isa’s side hasn’t left his solitary-natured friend alone. 

Lea’s arms cross as he steps up to Isa, beside the vanity, nodding to the fresh decor with approval. “It’s the first time it’s looked like it’s yours. You guys are really making a life for yourselves here.” 

Isa offers a grateful smile, running his fingers along the painted edges of the delicate wooden rim. “I’m glad you like it.”  
  
Lea’s own smile turns wry, his toe prodding at one of the bizarrely patterned rugs. “I wouldn’t go _that_ far…”

“Well,” Isa laughs, reaching out to straighten the crooked lapel of Lea’s coat, “you always have had terrible tastes.”

“No, but really,” Lea squeezes Isa’s hand, smiles more sincerely, though it strikes Isa as a little sad, “it’s nice. Suits you.” 

“Thank you. Speaking of suits,” Isa draws his hand back and gives Lea a more appraising glance, the neat sharp angles of the pressed suit filling him with a physical sense of relief, even as his eyebrow quirks, and he teases, “you look halfway decent for once. Did Roxas approve?” 

Lea’s wince is subtle but present, and then flattens, face a blank mask. He shrugs, nonchalant. “He’s not coming.”

Isa had been turning back to the mirror, but goes rigid and turns back. His next inquiry is softer and accompanied by scrunching brows, the tone of someone who already knows they’ve misheard, “No?”

“But if it helps,” Lea’s hands land on the back of Isa’s vanity chair, rotating him back toward the mirror, “I don’t think your taste in men’s wear is entirely to blame.”

Isa coughs, frowns, shakes his head. “Just my taste in men?” He raises his head and grips the desk, pushing and spinning himself to look back up at Lea. “He’s meant to be here.” Isa speaks with an unquestionable certainty that pricks at Lea’s skin like a fistful of pins. _If his psychic divination tendencies hadn’t ended when Kingdom Hearts made like a firework, surely, he would have said something before now, right?_

Isa fumbles for his phone on the corner of the neatly organized vanity table, beside the eye shadow pallet Lea had insisted he purchase in San Fransokyo. “Perhaps if I give him a call…” 

“Isa, really, you’re the last…” Lea cuts himself off. Isa and Roxas have tried so fucking hard to be friends. Lea sighs, wondering, not for the first time, how Roxas is doing and resolving, not for the first time, to propose when he gets home.

 _Assuming Sora hasn’t gotten him sloshed on eggnog, Riku hasn’t put him in A Mood, and Kairi hasn’t beaten him to a pulp with her pretty floral keyblade._

“Look.” He meets Isa’s eyes, silently apologizing for what he’d nearly said, “You told me to give him a choice. He’s not ready to be in RG with all his old Organization friends just yet. It’s your big day, let’s focus on you, alright?” Lea squeezes Isa’s shoulders, grins broadly.

Isa groans, plucking one of Lea’s gloved hands off of him. “Very well.” He stares into his reflection, blue-green eyes scanning, sweeping, taking in every minute detail with the same critical speed and efficiency he had once read their daily reports. 

“How are you feeling?” Lea’s head tilts, his smile returning. He’s savoring his friend’s uncharacteristic unease just a little. “Gonna vomit?” 

“My nerves are worming into my stomach like maggots and my smoky eye looks like I’ve been sucker punched, so perhaps.” Isa sets his face in his hands and slumps forward. 

“That’s a little bit graphic, don’t ya—?” 

Isa’s chin jerks up, interrupting, “I am an utter wreck, and I am going to need you to redo my hair and makeup before I smash this damn mirror in.” Isa’s palm stretches across the surface of the mirror and he whirls the chair back around.

Lea’s hands rise abruptly, a surprised laugh choking his throat. “Isa, buddy, honey, you look…” Lea’s eyes scan for themselves. Isa’s hair is its ordinary degree of pin straight, his makeup has been half-wiped off, but had at one point been alright, “fine.”  
  
Isa scoffs, lifting a towel to wipe at his makeup, but thinking better of it and flinging it at Lea’s face. “That convinced no one.”

Lea squeaks, catching the towel midair before it can splatter his own cheek with water. He sets to gently wiping at the streaks and smudges around Isa’s eyes which flutter closed at the gentle scrubbing. 

“Xemnas has seen you go berserk a hundred times,” Lea murmurs, “and Terra’s a beefcake gym rat who walks around in sweaty tanks. They’re—he’s not going to give a flying fuck…” 

“I know that,” Isa interrupts curtly, huffing, one eye flickering open. “ _I_ give a flying fuck. Me.” He stares Lea down intently, asserting his resolve. “Fix me or leave.” 

Lea doesn’t think before replying. “Nothing to fix.” 

Isa near growls, glaring daggers sharp and blue as broken ice.

Lea feels a pinching in his chest at Isa’s vulnerability, and can’t help but smile thinking how much Roxas would have liked to see it. Not to make fun of Isa, but to get a closer glimpse of his raw, shallow, bone deep humanity. 

“Sir, yes, sir.”

Isa sounds the level of exasperated Lea has always considered a badge of honor. “Lea…”

“Really, you can count on me. Braids and bronzer. I’m on it.” He sets to shuffling around in his coat. “Right after this.” It’s clear he needs to get Isa’s mind off of his looks for a minute and his glance across Isa’s vanity has reminded him of one of the gifts he’d stuffed in the suit jacket pockets.

“After what?” 

Lea withdraws a neatly wrapped parcel and holds it out. “After you open your Christmas present from Roxas and me.”

Isa’s chuckle is a bit baffled, as he accepts it, plucking at the twine bow. He turns it over in his hands, attempting to make out its content. “And what exactly is a _Christmas_ present?”

“Dunno,” Lea shrugs a shoulder, thinking about Olette, Hayner, and Pence trying to explain, reading him a children’s book about a baby god king, which did not necessarily clear things up. “Some bizarro Twilight Town thing. You give stuff to the people you like. Like birthdays except it’s on Christmas.” 

“But why…” The twine slips away and Isa pauses. “Wait. Was I meant to get you and Roxas something?”

Lea rolls his eyes. “You’ve done enough for us.” He pats Isa roughly on the shoulder, “Just tear off the fuckin’ paper, Ice…”

“Thank you.”  
  
Lea scoffs, his fingers twitching to begin tugging off the paper for him. “You haven’t even opened it yet!” 

“I mean thank you for saying that.” 

Lea stares at Isa for a long enough moment that Isa feels a touch uncomfortable. Isa opens his mouth to speak and then Lea interrupts him with a laugh. “We’re both going to be sappy, emotional messes all day, huh?”  
  
Isa smiles back. “Apparently so.” 

* * *

“You think this is the place?”

“Hm. Hard to tell…” 

The slap of their sneakers and sandals against the cracked sidewalk sound as surreal to Xion and Roxas’ ears as the distant slapping of the waves and the heralding cries of the gulls overhead. 

Still the salt burning their noses is pleasantly familiar and the sun on their skin brings with it a sense of warmth and calm. It’s a nice reprieve after the mild tension of their departure from Twilight Town. 

Pluto trots along at their heels, a wreath around his neck, tail held high, alternating between dancing ahead of them and sniffing at unseen critters hiding in the sand along the path. 

Their footsteps halt briefly in front of a neat little white house with a red stucco roof. It looks near identical to every other home on the island aside from its lively tropical flower garden. Some of its blossoms are recognizable from other worlds entirely. However, most notably to Xion and Roxas, its shoddy wooden mailbox has been hung with a bouquet of what appears to be at least fifty red and green balloons. 

Roxas glances over his shoulder automatically, and then sharply twists his head back, realizing Lea’s not standing there. He can nearly hear his voice chipping in, _“I like it. Subtle. Tasteful. We should get some for Isa’s wedding.”_

He inwardly recoils from the thought like a Heartless strike. 

Xion has continued a few steps up the path, and Roxas finds himself darting forward, catching at her arm. “Xion… wait…” He hesitates. He doesn’t know quite what he wants to say, he just wants some reassurance, and Xion’s always been good at that. 

“Hm?” Xion’s brows rise, her warm smile faltering. She sets her hand lightly on his. “Roxas, what’s wrong?” 

“Aren’t you…” He stares at her, but he doesn’t see anything on her face like he’s feeling. Nothing apart from mild concern about _him._ “Angry?”

She’s in more or less the same position he is, after all. Naminé had decided just this morning to go to Radiant Garden with Lea instead of spending Christmas with them as planned. 

Xion tries to mirror his serious expression, but it dissolves into a giggle. “I can’t stay angry with you, Roxas.” She squeezes his hand, pulls him a few steps forward, up to the raised landing of a sun-faded wooden porch. It creaks as she steps. “A little irritated, maybe…”

His feet seem to stick in the sand dusted path, and Pluto barks as Roxas near trips over him. Roxas rights himself, hand flying to his chest, a melodramatic gesture that feels stolen from Lea even to him. “Me?” he chokes. “I meant Naminé.” Roxas fixes her with wide, sad, puppy eyes. “Why are you angry with _me_?”

Xion falters, dubious, “Why would I be angry with _Naminé?”_

Roxas’ chin raises a fraction, his sad look turning imperious, “I mean, since when does she _need_ to see _Isa and Terra_ get engaged?” 

Her brows rise, and then her answer comes soft, careful, “I would have liked to see it too, Roxas.” 

Roxas doesn’t like when she feels like she has to watch what she says to him, and intends to soften his words, but he’s so caught off guard he finds himself scoffing, _“What?”_

“Can’t you just picture it?” Xion folds her hands together, gazes off into a sky as clear electric blue as Agrabah’s. It almost burns his eyes. “Isa’s all dressed up and polished, and he clasps Terra’s hands, and he starts to give some elaborate speech he’s practiced a hundred thousand times, and then one look at Terra and he’s gone. Just gone. He’s blushing pink as a rose. His tongue knots. The whole speech is out the window.”

Xion smiles fondly and Roxas snorts, amused with the unexpected portrayal.

“Isa has no idea what he was going to say,” Xion continues dreamily, “but that’s okay because Terra _understands,_ with that way he has, and he just laughs and shakes his head and says ‘of course, Isa,’ and Isa,” she presses a hand to her chest, “he can barely believe it. He’s like, _Are you sure?_ ”

She mirrors his imagined facial expression, full of self-doubt and highlighted with hope, and Roxas feels his chest warm.

“And Axel chokes down his laughter,” Xion goes on, smiling more wryly now, “trying not to ruin the moment, especially with you hanging onto his arm too hard, looking about ten seconds away from drawing your keyblade, because you’re all caught up in the moment and you’ve gone all soft.” Roxas shakes his head a little, bites his lip, but doesn’t deny it. 

“And Terra takes Isa’s face in his big, rough hands and says, _Yes, baby, I’m sure,_ and they kiss under the mistletoe and the moon and the stars. Axel wolf whistles and you start to clap and Naminé’s tearing up a little.” Xion laughs quiet and bell like and then her daydream blue eyes leave the over blue sky and land back on Roxas. 

He coughs a little bit and tugs at the cuff around his wrist, suddenly too warm in the island sun. He thinks if it went down like that, he wouldn’t mind seeing it for himself either. But the Organization members loom at the edge of his mind, closing in like Shadows, like losing consciousness. Limit break. “I didn’t know you wanted to go so badly,” he says instead. 

“It’s okay, Roxas. Really.” She looks and sounds like she means it, and his next inhale tastes like cool relief. Her hands land on her hips and she tilts her head, feigning sass. “But if you think we’re missing the wedding, you’ve got another thing coming.”

He smiles but it hurts his mouth and glances to the sky as she had, noting the sun still high in the horizon. Not even noon yet. “You could still make it if you left now…” he tells her, and this he manages more gently. 

Her arms slip and then cross as she chews on a frown, one sandal dragging sand across the wooden plank underfoot with a dull scratching sound. “I could? Or _we_ could?”

“You—” Roxas begins, his arms dropping to his sides and bringing the bags he’s lugging down to the porch with a thunk. 

“You’re my best friend.” She’s already shaking her head swiftly, kindly. “I’m not leaving you alone on Christmas, Roxas.” She steps forward to pick up one of the tote bags of party food, and then straightens, her giggles finally dropping off, as she eyes him, sounding wary again, “Especially not with you and Axel fighting.” 

His reply is instant as breathing. “We’re not fighting.” He can still feel Lea’s arms latched around him this morning, hot, sturdy, secure. 

She raises her brows. 

“We aren’t.” He glances down to his bag of gifts. His knuckles tighten around the fabric strap, feeling it pull and rub uncomfortably at his skin. “We’re just…” He eyes her, willing clearer words to come, to convey the understanding they’d come to this morning, but they don’t. “We’re not on the same page.” 

“Roxas, I love you,” she sings and reaches out with her free hand, pinches at his cheek, “I love you dearly, you know that, but sometimes,” she releases him, turns around and steps up onto a worn, woven welcome mat, “you’re really goddamn stupid.”

Roxas’ jaw goes slack as Xion presses at the doorbell and rocks back onto her heels.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he pleads, exhaling hard through his nose, hauling the remaining bag up over his shoulder and stepping forward again to face her. 

Xion lifts her hands in a shrug, her wide black sun hat flopping back as her chin lifts. “When’s the last time that you spent more than five minutes with anyone who used to be in the Organization besides Isa?”  
  
He lifts a hand of his own, his shrug a mockery of hers. He forces his tone to stay light but the exasperation shines through, “Oh, like you have?”

“No.” Her lip juts out a little, her fingers twisting in the fraying hem of her grey cut off shorts. “But from what Lea says, I think it’s about time we did.” She glances back up at him. Her optimism is always so persuasive, contagious, but Roxas can’t begin to process what she’s just said, as his brain focuses on a single word, replaying it like a skipping record on one of those old music players they’d had in the Usual Spot until Seifer had nicked it. 

“Don’t—” he hisses, meeting her eyes in warning, and sometimes his can feel cold and glassy on her skin, cutting like the first wave of the ocean tide. 

“Huh?” Her brows furrow, her hands dropping and catching at the edge of the bag. Pluto darts to her side, and stretches up the length of the door, whining like a wounded thing, and pawing at it.  
  
“Don’t fucking call him that,” Roxas answers, eyes flicking from the dog to Xion’s eyes, earnest, confused. He can feel his voice rising, but coming out slightly strangled as his throat gets tight, “Not you too—”

With a creak like a log splitting, the door in front of them swings inward, and Xion and Roxas leap back automatically as Kairi steps into view, their fists and teeth clenching, and then slackening in a breath. 

“Think we need therapy,” Xion mutters over her shoulder to Roxas as Kairi leaps forward to wrap arms around her. Pluto prances around them, yipping cheerfully. 

“Xion! Merry Christmas, beautiful!” 

“Merry Christmas, Kai!”

“Merry Christmas, Pluto,” Kairi adds, patting the pup on the head. “The guys and Granna are around back.” Pluto wags his tail, barks enthusiastically, and trots off down the deck steps, apparently wishing to be the first to announce their arrival to the others. Kairi giggles, and then looks back to Xion again. “We weren’t sure if you’d make it, sweetie, with everyone else off to—”  
  
“Well, actually,” Xion interrupts, stepping aside, arm still linked with Kairi’s and nodding off to the side, “I brought a friend.” 

Roxas flicks a few fingers up in a wave and musters a smile. “Merry Christmas, Kairi.” 

The holiday cheer drips from Kairi’s face like melting snow, replaced with intense concern. 

“Roxas?” She releases Xion’s arm, and Xion backs off a step. “What are you _doing_ here? Is everything okay?”

Roxas glances down his front to see if he looks mortally injured, or even slightly rumpled, and then glances back up, finding nothing, brow furrowing, “I mean, I told Sora I was coming weeks ago.” His lip starts to lift, amused, “Did he forget to tell you…?”

“No, no,” Kairi swishes her hand impatiently, the other fluttering to her forehead, “it’s just Lea—Axel told me you two had, uh,” her finger swirls in the air, “special romantic plans.”

“Oh, right, well, yeah.” He steps forward, wondering if he should hug her. Lea wouldn’t have hesitated, but she strikes him as distressed. “Axel wanted to spend Christmas in Radiant Garden. I don’t know what’s special-romantic about that, but…” He ventures another grin that she doesn’t return.

Xion ducks in between them, a plastic smile on her face. “He sends his love and regrets.” She lifts a bottle from her tote bag by the neck, “And some fruity wine he said he thinks you’ll really love.” 

Kairi brushes Xion off with a shake of her head, taking a step back into the door frame, eyes still locked on Roxas, “You can’t be here,” she insists, gentle but firm. “You were supposed to go to Radiant Garden with him. He had the whole day planned; he’s been working _so_ hard…”  
  
Roxas winces. He’s seen Kairi flustered with Riku and Sora once or twice, but never imagined himself on the receiving end. His stomach twists like a towel getting wrung out. “Look,” he says putting care into not sounding _too_ defensive, “I know. Ax and I talked about it. I didn’t like, slam the door in his face and run off, okay?” He chuckles. “It’s fine. We’re fine.” 

“No,” Kairi repeats, fixing him with eyes that are so much like Xion’s that Roxas feels more pain than he expects to when she frowns sternly at him. “Roxas, you should really go.” 

Roxas looks back to Xion to try and ground himself, and finds tendrils of frustration wrapping themselves around his guilt.

“No, I really shouldn’t,” he says, looking back to Kairi with more resolve in the set of his jaw. “It’s Christmas and I promised Sora I’d be here. Besides, I don’t want to get into it with half the Organization and screw up Isa’s proposal.” 

He sets one of the bags he’s carrying down in front of him and stretches an arm up behind his head, taking a deep, steadying breath, and imagining the shitshow in his head if the Org members were to try and torment him _now._ Now that he knows his own worth. Deafening yells, vehement cursing, storming steps, metal hitting metal and raising sparks of fire and magic. 

“Isa’d never forgive me.”  
  
“You,” Xion echoes, wincing at this new information, “wait, what?” Her hand brushes Roxas’ arm, a request for him to turn and address this with her. He pulls away, stepping backward, and she follows, the bag he’d set down pitching sideways as her foot catches against it. Its impact with the porch ends with the rain-like song of shattering glass. 

Xion bounces back with an apologetic, choked sound, and Roxas huffs a breath, lifting a palm in request that she not try to assist him before crouching down to assess the damage. 

“Careful…” Kairi warns. 

“Psh,” Roxas answers. 

“You’re worried about Isa’s proposal, and not how _Axel’s_ feeling?” Kairi continues overhead, in that soft, but urgent tone. 

Roxas lifts one of his carefully wrapped gifts and gives it a gentle shake, listening for a tell-tale rattle, but hearing none. “I told you,” he says, picking out another gift, closer to the side that had hit the porch, and lifting it to his ear, brow furrowing, “I talked to Axel.” 

He knows Kairi and Lea are close after what amounted to months training together, and he remembered Lea hinting earlier that she might be upset with him, but this seems like a bit much. _What the flying fuck had he said to her?  
_  
“He wanted you to _go with him._ You have no idea what you’re even turning down, do you?” Kairi carries on, level, but emotional, “You don’t know what it’s like to be with someone who leaves you behind, because Axel would never do that.”

Roxas swallows hard. He’s dimly aware that Kairi might not be entirely focused on _him_ anymore, but it doesn’t stop the memories from bubbling up. He can feel the wind slicing his face as he sat alone in silence on the clocktower, letting the deafening bells make his ears and bones numb. Even when Xion had been beside him, he could still feel a void at his side. Even Xigbar had noticed. And that had only been the first time. 

“That’s not true,” Roxas says simply, setting down the unbroken gifts beside him and reaching for the final one. He can already hear the shattered glass clinking within. He turns the paper tag over with his thumb. 

_Riku. Well_ fuck. 

Kairi’s arms cross and it finally strikes Roxas as odd that she has mittens, a winter hat, and a trailing scarf paired with her sundress. “Of course it is.”

Roxas sets Riku’s gift aside and replaces the others in the bag, then he meets Kairi’s eyes. “The first time Axel left me for longer than a few hours, he went to Castle Oblivion. I waited and waited for him to come back, I asked about him every time that I could, and the others gave me hell for it, but there was no news. I know what that feels like. And then one morning I walked into the Gray Area and Xigbar and Demyx were laughing. Everyone at Castle Oblivion was dead, they told me, and then they fucking laughed some more.”

Roxas can’t process Kairi’s expression, he looks down again to Riku’s gift and runs his thumb under the tape. 

“Roxas, honey, please…” Xion crouches down beside him, but he doesn’t look at her either, “be careful.” 

He isn’t sure if she’s talking about the broken glass or the oversharing, but, in his opinion, it’s a little late to be careful of either.

He hears rather than sees Kairi lowering herself to sit on the stoop. “But Axel didn’t _choose_ to leave you, Roxas. He’s never chosen to leave you.” 

Roxas tastes suffocating smoke. Light explodes from black gloves and blinds him, no Sora, no him, as it fills every crevice of the cavern. He sees shadows bleeding over porcelain skin and hears his name in a sarcastic drawl blessing paling lips. A last rite. A prayer. 

“And he clawed his way back, even though...” Kairi tells him, still thinking about Castle Oblivion, about what Axel had _done,_ let happen. No survivors. “Even when it meant...” she trails off, apparently trying to retain some semblance of decorum. 

“Go on,” Roxas pushes, giving the wrapping paper a particularly rough rip, “you can’t tell me anything I don’t already know.”

Kairi hesitates, Xion hisses, and Roxas stares at the parcel in his lap, shards of glass that had once been twisted into a silver lion. It’s a far cry from salvageable. 

“You know,” Kairi begins again, trying for pleasant, “when Axel and I first started training together, I was pretty confused about how to feel about him.”

Roxas snorts through his nose, as he wraps the glass lion back up in tissue. Sharp sounds ring through the air as the glass breaks further, against the pressure of his palm. 

“Actually,” Kairi grimaces, “confused isn’t the right way to put it. Roxas, I was terrified. Our first few spars, I felt like I was fighting for my life with every strike, and he was laughing like he was playing with a kitten.”

“He’s not one to go easy on you,” Xion offers more fondly, apparently trying to inject some more civility into the conversation. 

Kairi winces at the apparent understatement, as Roxas bundles Riku’s shattered present up into its wrapping paper and sets to tying the edges with the twine once more to avoid spilling the glass. 

“Okay…” Roxas says finally, glancing between them, chest aching, the nerves in his feet buzzing with an overpowering urge to flee. “So, he was a dick to you. What do you want me to say?” 

Kairi reaches out a mittened hand and sets it over Roxas’ clutching the wrapped glass. “But do you know what finally made me trust him, Roxas?”  
  
“His very corny jokes and catch phrases?” Xion supplies, too sweetly, too eagerly. 

Roxas tastes bile in the back of his throat. “The fact that he’d saved Sora’s ass like three times at that point?” And then he tacks on because Axel’s not there to do it himself, “His pretty smile?”

“You, Roxas.” Kairi gives his hands a warm woolen squeeze he doesn’t respond to, her voice softens, a smile playing at her lips, “He talked about you all the time while we were keyblade training. I mean he didn’t want to at first, he’s not exactly one to open up about his past to just anybody.” She laughs at a memory they aren’t privy to, getting just a little pink in the cheeks. “He was much more comfortable teasing me about my boyfriends. But the way he talked about you was… different. He started with just mumbling about how he’d seen you hold the keyblade, or stand, or land a special move, and then when he was tired, or sad he would wonder what you’d think about him learning it all. 

“Eventually, he opened up, told me what you’d been through together. He talked to me about you like we were all old friends. And I realized the guy I thought was a monster was just a desperately lonely man who’d had his heart broken so many times it was a miracle he was still standing. And it was all for you, Roxas. Every day he was working to master this darkness inside him, to face the light without flinching because it’s what he thought you would have wanted. His love for you is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen, in any world.”

She looks at him with glistening eyes, and Roxas’ heart feels light and heavy at the same time. It hadn’t really occurred to him that anyone else saw his relationship with Axel the way he did, understood the ease and necessity of their friendship and the infinite depth of their loyalty, all of it tested in flame and steel and blood, and withstanding. But Kairi does, and more strangely than that, she seems almost envious of it. The idea makes him want to laugh out loud, but he thinks she might smack him. 

“I know,” he says. She doesn’t need to tell him. Lea shows Roxas how much he cares every second of every day. They might get mad and say stupid things, like his petty comment about Isa that morning, but he knows Lea’s feelings for him and his for Lea are as radiant and overpowering and enormous as the blazing sky grieving for the setting sun.  
  
She sighs and rises to her feet, knees cracking. She clutches at the scarf at her throat with both hands and stares at him for a long moment. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Kairi…” Xion attempts warily, wringing her hands miserably. 

“Really?”

Roxas shrugs, a helpless gesture. Roxas has never been great with words, but in his head, he’s seeing Lea lifting their keyblade in his hands, his expression borderline reverent. “He’s everything to me, no matter how far apart we are. I gave him my heart this morning, Kairi. A couple hours apart isn’t going to change that.”

“If you gave him your heart,” Kairi has no way of knowing what Roxas is referring to, but she seems to understand anyway, her voice rising into a demand, “then why won’t you let him give you his?”  
  
Roxas shakes his head, pushing up onto one knee, and shouldering his bag of gifts once more. “He doesn’t need to give me anything!”

“Of course he does!” Kairi’s sweet, cherubic face contorts, and when Roxas stands to face her, feet planted, expression stoic, fists clenched: a wall, she gives a cry of frustration, steps back in the door frame, and slams the door in his face. 


End file.
